Bait and Switch
by Radioactive Whisper
Summary: Based on the 4 months later at the end of Psycho/Therapist. William Lewis escapes from prison, set on revenge. His time in prison made him smarter and he knows exactly how to get to Olivia. The move he makes catches everyone off guard and leaves them reeling.
1. Chapter 1

First let me say thanks to all who read and gave feedback or hit the favorite/follow button on my first fic. You all gave me the confidence to continue trying my hand at fanfiction. This particular fic came out of nowhere. I was working on sending Nick and Olivia off into the Adirondacks...I had some adventure and danger in the wilderness planned for them. But, then I watched Psycho/Therapist. I was surprised that the show left the door open on the William Lewis front, so I immediately began considering how they might bring him back again. This came to me the next morning and has slowly but surely been forming in my mind ever since. The first chapter of this is kinda dark, so expect a fair amount of darkness in the future. A few more notes on this...I know that Cragen is retiring but he remains the Captain in this because I started before his retirement and because I'm not sure what the feel of the squad will be like without him. Also, Liv is a Sergeant in this fic, but she remains partnered with Nick because I refuse to have it any other way. They are perfect. And they are also Dick Wolf's, as are all the other characters. Everything is his, I own nothing. Hope you enjoy.

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><p>"This is..."<p>

"A complete waste of time?"

Nick flashed his partner a smile that said 'I'm right aren't I?' and shrugged.

Olivia chuckled and smiled back at him. "I was going to say something else, but that about covers it."

They were both sitting at their desks, staring at their computer screens and clicking their mouse rapidly as they completed one of the department's most recent mandates…annual ethics training. To say that it was insulting would be the understatement of the century. It was a waste of their energy and valuable time that they would've been spending on cases. Afterall, when you could literally answer every question wrong multiple times and still successfully complete the training, it was hard to see the point of it. And no one did, so they put it off as long as they possibly could. Nick and Olivia were no exception. They'd been avoiding this chore for weeks and ducking Cragen as he attempted to make them complete it for days, but he'd finally caught up with them today and told them in no uncertain terms to get it done.

Nick groaned as he put his head down on his desk and continued clicking the mouse. Olivia couldn't help but laugh at the blatant disregard he had for what was on his screen.

"You know they keep track of how long it takes you right? At least slow down on the clicking."

Nick lifted his head and looked at her with raised eyebrows. "You've got to be kidding me. Great, so what's an acceptable time for ethics training?"

Olivia shrugged and continued at her computer. Nick looked up as Fin and Amanda walked into the squad room. "Hey, what's the time limit for ethics training?"

Fin looked over at him with an 'are you serious expression'. "Who cares?" he asked incredulously.

Amanda giggled at the exchange. "Fine, be that way. What are you guys working on," Nick asked, noting the file in Amanda's hand, "Please tell me it's something that's going to get me out of this stupid training."

Amanda shook her head, "Sorry Nick, a couple of indecent exposures and a John who got too rough aren't getting you out of anything."

Nick nodded his head in surrender. He turned to look at his partner but found that her gaze was fixed elsewhere. He followed her eyes and saw the Captain approaching their desks looking tense.

Nick held his hands up in front of him in an apologetic gesture. "Sorry Cap, we're almost done."

The older man seemed perplexed for a brief moment and then waved off the apology.

"I'm glad you're all here." He paused and scanned the faces of his detectives. He stopped when he came to his newly minted Sergeant. There was a hint of a smile left on her face, one that was fading rapidly at his somber demeanor.

"What's wrong," Olivia asked anxiously.

"I just got off the phone with the warden at Rikers. Six hours ago, William Lewis escaped custody."

There was a collective and audible intake of breath. All eyes turned to Olivia. To no one's surprise she was steadfast in the face of this particularly terrible revelation. She took the news in silence, jaw clenched tightly, hands clasped together on her desk, no hint of emotion on her face.

"How," she finally asked in a voice that only those that knew her closely would recognize as any different from normal. But the hint of emotion was there and it betrayed the inner turmoil that was inevitably taking place inside of her head.

"He was taken to Bellevue to be treated for a seizure. Somehow he managed to get free from the cuffs and get out of the prison ward."

Amanda shook her head in disbelief. "Amazing. I'm not sure what I find more unbelievable, the incompetence of the staff that allowed him to escape or that this guy has caught yet another break." She threw her hands up. "He should seriously consider hitting a blackjack table."

Fin gave her a stern look and she rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean."

Fin turned back to Cragen. "Do they have any leads?"

The Captain shook his head. "Nothing so far. If he had help, and it seems unlikely he could've pulled this off on his own, it makes things more complicated. He could've been given money, a car, new clothes...he wouldn't necessarily need to make his presence known anywhere for a while."

"Ok, but Lewis is predictable." Nick interjected. "He doesn't plan. It's only a matter of time before he needs a place to stay, money, booze. He's arrogant. He'll take what he wants and leave a path of destruction that will lead right to him."

Cragen nodded his head in agreement. Olivia sighed. "More like a path of bodies."

"New York state troopers are on the case, it's their job to find him. My number one concern is your bodies," Cragen said as he scanned a pointed finger at them. "You all helped put him away, you could all be targets. Be vigilant. Liv..."

"Yeah, Cap...I know," Olivia interrupted.

"That goes triple for you," he continued pointing a finger at her. He looked around at his squad. "Until Lewis is caught, she doesn't leave this precinct without a partner. Understood?" They all nodded their heads in agreement.

Olivia started to protest. "Captain, I get what you're doing but..."

"This isn't up for discussion," Cragen said firmly. "I'll also be requesting a unit to patrol outside of your building."

Olivia opened her mouth to protest again, but seemed to realize it was futile and gave a slight nod instead.

"Good." The Captain gave a final nod and then turned and walked to his office.

It was quiet for a moment. They looked around at each other, dazed, unsure of how to continue on with their day after the bomb that had been dropped.

Nick walked over to where his partner sat staring unfocused at her computer screen. He put a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, you ok?"

She looked up at him and attempted what he thought was meant to be a reassuring smile, but looked more like a grimace. "Yeah, I'm fine," she said returning her eyes to her computer screen, avoiding the appraising stares of her colleagues.

"Don't worry Liv, I bet they find Lewis by morning and throw his ass back in jail where he belongs," Fin said, attempting to sound more reassuring than he felt.

"You know he's probably high tailing it out of the state as we speak. He's gotta know if he sticks around it's only a matter of time before he's back in prison," Amanda chimed in following Fin's lead.

Olivia finally brought her eyes up to meet theirs. "I know. The Captain is just being over protective. Lewis is disabled, he's lost the element of surprise...even he's not that stupid. I'm sure he's going to lay low."

Nick looked at Amanda and Fin and saw the unease that he felt reflected in their faces. It had been stupid to go after her last time after walking away from a sure conviction. No, it was obvious none of them were convinced. He was sure Olivia wasn't either. While what she said was true, common sense couldn't be relied upon to stop someone as arrogant as Lewis. He was bold, rash and he wasn't used to losing. Olivia had beaten him in more than one way. There was no doubt in Nick's mind he would be looking to finish what he started with her. His eyes met Olivia's and he gave an affirmative nod that he hoped she took as agreement. For today, they could all pretend that William Lewis was driving in the opposite direction headed to Tennessee, Louisiana... _Anywhere but here_, Nick thought.

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><p>He was driving away from the city. Away from the prison, away from the hospital, away from her. It felt wrong. It felt like running. He'd never run from anything in his life. He had to remind himself that he wasn't really running. He was being smart. He was resisting his worst impulses. The ones that would have had him wreaking havoc and seeking revenge as soon as he'd escaped the hospital prison ward. But instead he was driving a Honda Civic down a two lane road, having long ago ditched the car he'd taken from the hospital. He'd found the Honda in a 'blink and you miss it' kind of town in a remote parking lot with a for sale sign in the window. No witnesses, no damage...easy hotwire and go. Smart. He doubted anyone would realize the car was missing for a while.<p>

He hit a particularly rough patch of road and felt the car jostle beneath him. The scrapping of plastic on plastic caught his attention.

He looked down at the badge in the cup holder and smirked as he thought about the pretty, but gullible Doctor Cole. It hadn't taken much to get her help after he'd successfully faked himself to a hospital outside of Rikers...some crocodile tears and a story about a notoriously ruthless inmate threatening his life. He had to admit his performance had been brilliant. He'd oozed desperation as he told her he was sure he was going to die in Rikers and that he just needed someone to save his life. She'd been conflicted, he'd seen the war raging in her eyes. She was convinced what he said was true, that he was going to die. It didn't hurt that she had a certain fondness for him. They'd seen a lot of each other while he was in prison. But it was her career on the line and that was no small matter. He'd never been sure it would work, but it'd been worth a shot. He had nothing to lose. And as it turns out, he judged the good doctor correctly. In the end she had risked getting caught helping him. She'd found a way to get him the key to the handcuffs restraining him and left her badge in his room so he could get out of the prison ward. He shook his head. They all fell for the act. He cocked his head slightly. Well...not all of them.

He grabbed the badge out of the cup holder and turned it over in his hand.

He'd briefly considered lying low in the city, waiting for the good doctor to get off work and then following her home. After a year in prison, he longed to get his hands on the soft, warm body of a woman. He could've used a couple of nights playing with the doctor.

He looked down at the badge in his hand and then rolled down the window and tossed it outside.

She wasn't the one he wanted. She wasn't worth the risk. Sacrifices had to be made.

He looked down at his speedometer. 55 mph. He sighed in frustration. Sacrifices indeed. Archer would be impressed at his discipline.

He considered his former cellmate. He had never had friends. He had never wanted friends. He was only interested in what he wanted and needed, screw other people.

But Tennell Archer was different. Archer was probably the closest thing he'd ever had to a friend. Whether it was dumb luck or by design, they had been assigned to a cell together and had quickly found that they had a lot in common. Archer was like him. He had a similar appreciation for women...or more specifically the things that could be done to them. Marks marring their soft, perfect skin, tears running down their cheeks as they were taken by force. The power was intoxicating and they both craved it. They had shared stories of all their worst deeds, conquests, and what they fantasized about doing outside of the prison walls that held them. But where he was impulsive and daring, Archer was meticulous and organized. Of course, Archer had the benefit of experience. He was 47. He'd been at it for years. In all of that time he had only been charged with the kidnap, assault and rape of one girl. Even that had been bad luck. He had blown a tire transporting his victim to her final destination and a state trooper had pulled over to help him. The truth was after Archer was arrested, the police put two and two together and began to suspect him of a number of rape/homicides that'd taken place over the years. But they couldn't prove it. They were just happy to have him behind bars. But he knew the truth because Archer liked to share...and what Archer shared had left even him a little in awe.

Archer was like a mentor. He'd made him see where he went wrong and shown him how to be smarter. He'd convinced him that his recklessness was his downfall and the only way to get what he wanted was to control his impulses, plan, and limit collateral damage. "If you destroy everything in your way, Will, you leave a path for the police to follow. You want to blend in. Leave no trace of yourself." He heard Archer's voice ringing in his ears. He knew now that Archer was right. Looking back, it was so clear how he had engineered his own destruction. But not again. He'd learned his lesson. Soon he would have everything he wanted. But not yet. He still had arrangements to make and a special place to find. Archer had helped him with that one, too. He just had to make sure it was there. See if it was ready. Then the fun would begin.

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><p>Olivia walked into the dark apartment and flipped on the light. She set her purse down on the kitchen counter and dropped her coat on the chair.<p>

Brian must be working late again. _Good, _she thought. She didn't want to talk about it right now. She couldn't talk about it right now. _It was supposed to be over_.

She grabbed a wine glass out of the cabinet and poured herself a glass. She took a drink and then set the glass down. She ran a hand over her face and sighed. She took another sip from her wine glass and reached for the pile of mail on the counter. She began sorting through it mindlessly, thinking about the night ahead and deciding a long hot bath was in order.

There was a loud crash...she was startled, she stumbled off-balance to the wall that divided the kitchen from the living room and pulled out her gun.

"Welcome home Detective Benson." She heard the words so clearly, he had to be there. No, not again. Her heart raced, she was breathing rapidly.

There was another crash. She whipped around the corner, armed and ready to take on the source of the disturbance. There was no one there. She heard it for a third time. It had come from near the refrigerator. And then she realized what it was...the ice maker.

She placed her gun back in the holster and walked to the refrigerator. She opened the freezer drawer that held the ice tray and looked inside. Sure enough, there were a handful of ice chunks in an otherwise empty tray. She frowned and kicked the bottom drawer shut.

Olivia walked back to the counter and picked up her wine glass. She started to raise it to her lips and then stopped and looked at it...it was shaking. Her hand was shaking. For a brief moment she watched the ripples that formed as the wine shook with her hand. Then in an instant, she turned and threw the glass at the refrigerator. The glass shattered into pieces and the red liquid rolled down the refrigerator and onto the floor. Olivia slid down the wall and put her head in her hands. She gave in to the emotion that had threatened to overtake her all day. Tears fell freely down her face and her body was wracked by sobs. She found herself repeating the same mantra over and over in her head. _It was supposed to be over_.

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><p>He slowly climbed out of the car while taking in his surroundings. It was perfect. He felt giddy, he couldn't believe he'd found it. Before him stood a small shack in the midst of a very dense forest with a half mile long driveway and no neighbors in any direction for miles. Lucky for him that he had become friends with his cellmate.<p>

_"Archer, how'd you go so long without being caught?"_

_"Patience, planning...also had the best spot you could think of. A remote little house in the middle of a forest. No one around for miles. I was a couple of miles away from my place when my tire blew that day. Crazy how life is sometimes."_

_"Didn't the police find out about it when you were arrested?"_

_"Nah, the land belongs to a buddy of mine. 700 acres of privately owned forest. He's the only one that knows it's there and he wouldn't say anything."_

_The younger man cocked his head slightly and raised an eyebrow._

_"Let's just say he's got his own skeletons in the closet."_

_"Hmmm...where does a place like that exist?"_

_"Poestenkill, Ny. I remember the cemetary. I'd drive right past it thinking how it was probably a pretty good marker for my place." Archer laughed. "Once I got past the cemetary it wasn't long. Then I'd see a tree that looked like a cyclone and I knew I was there. The driveway is practically hidden. Overgrown trees make it look like you're turning into a path that no longer exists. But it's there."_

Indeed it was. This had been Archer's place. Now it was his. He liked to think Archer wouldn't mind. After all, Archer was still in prison. He wasn't. Someone should be taking advantage of this place.

He limped up to the door and tried the knob...locked. He began overturning anything he could find on the porch looking for a key. He felt along the window edges, above the door frame. He was about to bust out a window when he noticed what looked like a square-shaped piece of wood that had been cut out of one of the porch posts and put back in. He tried to move it but couldn't get his fingers in to take it out. He brought out his knife and slipped the blade into one of the cracks. The piece of wood popped out and where the wood used to be lay a silver key.

His eyes lit up. "Jackpot."

He grabbed the key and then slipped the piece of wood back into place. He stuck the key in the door and turned, feeling the lock give way. He entered the house slowly, reaching all around him looking for a light switch. He found nothing. He could make out a fireplace and a sofa. He turned to his right and walked into a medium-sized end table with drawers. He began opening the drawers looking for a flashlight.

"Bingo," he said, reaching into the bottom drawer. He pulled out a couple of long candles and set them on top of the table. It wasn't a flashlight but it would do. He took out his lighter and lit one of the candles. He made his way around the room, taking note of everything. It was very simple. Not much furniture, no real kitchen beyond some cabinets, a sink and a table. There was also a bathroom with a small, seemingly badly rigged shower.

"You were roughing it out here, weren't you Arch?" He said to himself. No electricity, bare bones furniture, barely running water...it wasn't exactly what he expected, but it didn't deter him. The place was still perfect. Well...almost perfect.

He did a mental inventory of all he had seen. He knew what Archer was, he knew what Archer liked...there was no bed, no mattress. No room that locked either. Did he just keep his girls tied to a chair for days? He frowned. He felt like he was missing something. He retraced his steps, scanning the walls, looking for a door that he might have missed. And then he heard it, the sound of metal on wood as he stepped across a rug in front of the fire-place. He lifted the rug and felt his heart rate increase. There was a wooden square door in the floor with a large metal ring. This had to be it. He lifted up on the door and found a ladder leading down, to what, he wasn't sure. He couldn't see. He climbed down the ladder, careful of the candle in hand. He held the candle out to light the unknown and crept forward slowly. He noticed another larger candle on a stand against the wall and lit it. He turned and took in the rest of the room. He was in a small area...concrete walls, concrete floor, low ceiling...nothing remarkable about it. But in the corner what he found made him smile. A mattress, a toilet and a series of 4 D rings on the wall and on the floor that Archer had undoubtedly used to restrain his girls. Perfect, he thought again. He pictured her, ankle chained to the floor, unable to run away. Then he saw her on the mattress, arms chained to the wall, ankles to the floor...helpless. _Even better_. It was the most appealing image his mind had ever conjured. _Soon_, he thought. _Very soon_.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks to those that took the time to review the last chapter. I realize that was a tough one to read since it was a lot of setup and a bit on the dark side. In other words...not so much fun. I really do appreciate the positive response. This chapter is quite a bit lighter than the first. In fact, I had to continue what I had planned for chapter 2 into chapter 3 because I couldn't fit it all in one reasonably sized chapter. For that reason, chapter 3 should be fairly light as well. Also, a disclaimer before a disclaimer. I was able to finish chapter 2 relatively quickly because my work and training schedule allowed it. That will not always be the case. I will try to update as regularly as possible, but that's all I can promise. And now another disclaimer...Law and Order SVU and all the characters belong to Dick Wolf. I own nothing, except the computer I used to write this.

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><p>"I think that might have been record timing Nick," Olivia said, climbing out of the passenger side of their precinct issued car. "There a fire I don't know about?"<p>

"Haha, very funny," he called across the car, closing the car door. "You calling me a bad driver?"

"No, you're not a bad driver, you just displayed some questionable driving skills. See the difference?" They both laughed.

Nick reached the precinct door first and held it open, motioning for Olivia to go ahead of him. They walked side by side down the hallway towards the squad room.

"I didn't want to be late. Maria needed to drop Zara off early, so she's bringing her here tonight."

She turned her head to look at him. "If you don't mind me asking, how are things between you and Maria?"

"I like to think we're pretty civil divorced people. We both know that this is the way it needs to be and we're focused on being the best parents to Zara that we can be in the situation we're in."

They entered the squad room, and stopped in front of their desks. Olivia looked at the other set of desks in the area. They were empty. Amanda and Fin must be in interrogation.

"You and Cassidy have big plans for this weekend?"

Olivia shook her head. "Brian has to work, so I'll probably just curl up with a book and a glass of wine."

Olivia chanced a glance at him and saw the scowl that took over his face. She held up her hand, "I know what you're thinking Nick, but I'll be fine. Brian's been ducking out of work early for days now so he could be home with me in the evenings. It's been 5 days. There's nothing to worry about."

Truthfully, she almost believed that. It had been 5 days with no sign of William Lewis. As far as any of them knew, he had vanished into thin air. The last trace of him was the car he had ditched in a small, remote town in southern New York. They had waited for the call they were all expecting to get. A rape, robbery, homocide...anything that implicated Lewis in any way and gave them an inkling of what he was up to. But that call never came. In some ways it was unnerving that he wasn't behaving predictably. It wasn't like him to be anything but reckless. It felt like she'd been blindfolded and thrown in the lion's den, just waiting for the lion to strike. But with each day that went by, it was easier to assume that he was cutting his losses, enjoying his freedom and doing whatever he could to keep it. Probably leaving the state, maybe even the country. The mood of the squad room had certainly improved with each passing day. Cragen hadn't even argued much when the department finally pulled the unit that was patrolling outside of her building. She could almost forget that Lewis was out there and not behind bars. Almost.

"Liv, as long as he's out there..."

"Nick, I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."

Nick opened his mouth, paused and then closed it. Apparently thinking better of what he was going to say. He turned and started to walk away and then turned right back around to face her. "Listen, Zara's been learning about endangered animals in school. Her class adopted a snow leopard and she's fallen in love with them. Maria says she's been home every night since then on the computer looking at pictures. She even asked for a book about them."

Olivia twisted her face in confusion, not sure where this particular conversation was going. "Uh...that's cute. But, if you're looking for a snow leopard expert, I'm not your girl. I've got nothing."

Nick couldn't help but laugh. "No, they have a snow leopard exhibit at the Bronx Zoo and she's been dying to go see them in person. I told her I'd take her this weekend. You should come with us."

Olivia looked at her partner incredulously. "No. No way."

"Oh come on Olivia, we're not that bad," he declared with fake indignation.

"Oh I have no doubt Zara is great company. You, I'm not so sure about anymore."

He held a hand to his heart and screwed up his face dramatically. "Ouch."

"Seriously, though. This is your weekend with your daughter. You two need to spend that time together without me there tagging along. Besides, you need a break from me. We spend a lot of hours together as it is. Anymore and you'll get sick of me and ask for a new partner."

Nick shook his head. "Neither of those things have the slightest chance of ever happening," he said, eyes downcast.

Olivia paused and felt a slight blush tinge her cheeks. She hadn't expected such a serious response to her joking comment. "That's good to know," she answered genuinely, meeting his eyes.

"Dad!"

Nick and Olivia both turned their heads to see Maria and Zara entering the squad room. "Hola, mi pajarita!" Zara ran to her father and he picked her up in his arms, spinning her around in a circle as he hugged her tightly. He kissed her head and then set her down, kneeling so he was eye level with her. Olivia walked back to her desk, feeling the need to give the three of them a little space.

"How was your week? Were you good for your Mom?" Nick glanced up to Maria who was smiling at the two of them.

Zara nodded her head. "Dad, I made you something!" Zara went back to where Maria was holding her school bag and reached inside. She pulled out a pink hoop with purple strings and beads hanging from it and handed it to Nick.

"Wow, a dreamcatcher. That's just what I needed. How did you know?" Zara shrugged.

"That's really beautiful Zara," Olivia said.

Zara smiled, pleased and proud of the attention her gift was receiving. Nick held up the dreamcatcher and motioned to his desk. "I'm going to put this right here on my desk where everyone can see it and then none of the bad thoughts or dreams can get me while I'm here." He hung the dreamcatcher on a small tack that was stuck in some corkboard at his desk.

"I better get going," Maria said uncomfortably. "Zara be good for your dad." She turned to Nick and added, "I have to stay in the city for work this weekend so you don't have to worry about getting her to D.C. I'll pick her up from you Sunday night?"

"Sounds good."

Maria bent down and hugged Zara before turning to exit the squad room. Nick and Zara watched her leave and then Nick turned to his daughter with what Olivia thought looked like a mischievous grin.

"Zara, don't you think Olivia should go to the zoo with us tomorrow?"

Zara's eyes lit up and she yelled, "Yes!" She turned to Olivia expectantly who was in turn glaring at Nick.

"Hey Zara!" They all turned at the sound of Amanda's voice. She and Fin approached the three of them looking pleased to see their young guest.

"Hi Amanda," Zara said, beaming. "Hi Mr. Fin." They both smiled at her adoringly.

Amanda knelt by Zara and whispered conspiratorially, "What do you say we go raid Detective Simmons' stash of candy?"

Zara's eyes got wide. She glanced at her father who smiled and nodded at her. She turned back to Amanda and nodded her head enthusiastically.

Amanda took her hand and led her to the other side of the squad room.

Olivia stood and approached her partner. He was holding out his hands in mock surrender, well aware of how much trouble he was in. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. I'm a concerned partner and I knew she would love the idea."

"I'm going to kill you," Olivia said hitting his shoulder playfully.

Nick laughed. "Ok, but can you wait until after tomorrow? I did promise Zara she'd get to go to the zoo."

She narrowed her eyes in admonition. He put a hand up to his mouth and tried to cover his continued laughter, but his eyes were dancing with it. Olivia was contemplating whether it was possible to want to both hug someone and strangle them at the same time. She thought, based on this moment, it was. She smiled in spite of herself as she saw Amanda and Zara returning from their candy raid.

Zara went to stand by her father as she happily picked through an assortment of brightly colored candies in her hand.

Nick ran a hand through her hair. "Tell Amanda thank you."

"Thank you Amanda," Zara mumbled over the candies she had inserted into her mouth.

"You're welcome," Amanda replied sincerely.

"I think it's time for us to go home," Nick said, mussing up Zara's hair affectionately.

Zara put the last of the candy in her mouth and looked up at her father with sad eyes.

"What about Olivia? Is she going to come to the zoo with us?"

Nick and Olivia looked at each other expectantly, both stuttering, waiting for the other to answer her question. Zara looked between them and then decided to take matters into her own hands.

"Will you come with us? Please Olivia?"

She knew it was over. How could she tell her no? "Are you sure you want me to come? Don't you want to spend the day just you and your dad?"

She looked a little perplexed by this concept. "No." They all laughed at the childish honesty of her answer.

Nick motioned to his daughter and looked at Olivia with raised eyebrows. Olivia looked at him reproachfully and then turned back to Zara.

"If you're sure you want me to go..." Zara gave an affirmative and vigorous nod. "Then I'd be happy to go to the zoo with you," Olivia confirmed, smiling at her.

"Yay!" Zara screeched loudly.

"Ssshhhh," Nick whispered, bending down and holding a finger to his lips while trying to suppress his laughter. He held out a raised hand to Zara looking for a high-five. She obliged with a small hop. Nick turned back to his partner and smiled. She rolled her eyes, shook her head and walked back to her desk.

"Alright mi pajarita, let's go home." He picked up her school bag and grasped her hand.

"We'll come pick you up around 9 tomorrow?"

"Um...ok," she agreed, still looking unsure about the idea. "Bye Zara."

"Bye Olivia," Zara chirped, waving.

She watched father and daughter walk hand in hand out of the station, arms swinging happily. She hadn't stood a chance.

* * *

><p>"This is ridiculous."<p>

Brian watched her walk quick circles through their apartment getting herself ready, making coffee and attempting to eat some toast. She was obviously distressed and not to be messed with this morning.

"Liv, I can call in if you want."

"No," she huffed, exasperated. "That's the point." She threw a hand out in frustration. "I don't need a babysitter. I don't need you to stay home and I don't need to go to the zoo with my over protective partner. I'm perfectly capable of staying at my apartment by myself." She cringed at her words. "Ugh. See the fact that I even have to say that?"

Brian couldn't help but smile. She was cute when she was mad.

"I know you don't want to hear this, but I'm glad you're going."

Olivia cocked her head to the side, narrowing her eyes at him.

He continued as if he hadn't noticed. "I mean I wish it was with someone besides Amaro," he cracked, half serious, half-joking. "But it makes me feel better you won't be alone. Especially since the patrol was pulled. It's better to be safe as long as Lewis is still out there."

"Great, we've found the one thing you two agree on," she said sarcastically.

Brian chuckled, "There's got to be something else. What's his baseball team?"

She turned her attention to the coffee pot and ignored him. "I should've said no. I did say no. I should've stuck with no." she muttered, holding a conversation with herself and shaking her head as she poured a cup of coffee. She put the coffee pot down and looked at Brian with hands held out like an unspoken question. "But it was Zara asking and she said please in that adorable way kids do. Who could say no to that?"

Brian walked over to where she was standing and kissed her forehead.

"No one, that's why you're going." He said softly. Olivia nodded her head and took a drink of her coffee.

Brian grabbed his jacket and looked at his watch. He was running late.

There was a knock at the door. He went to answer, finding Nick and his daughter waiting on the other side. He waved them into the apartment and then turned around and grinned at the little girl.

"You must be Zara," he said. "It's nice to meet you, I'm Brian." She smiled shyly at him, grasping on to her father's coat.

"I've got to go to work, but you have fun at the zoo today," he stopped and glanced over to where Olivia was standing just outside of the kitchen, coffee cup in hand, and then back to Zara. "Do you think you can help Olivia remember to bring me back a souvenir? She's going to have so much fun she'll probably forget."

Zara nodded her head emphatically.

"Alright. Thanks Zara," he said holding out his hand for a high-five. She smacked his hand eagerly and smiled broadly at her father, proud to be given this very important task.

Brian turned back to Olivia. "Bye Babe. See you tonight."

"Nick," Brian said with a curt nod. Nick returned his acknowledgement and they all watched as he left the apartment. Nick put a hand on Zara's shoulder and one on her head. He turned to Olivia. "You ready," he asked, giving her a smile so bright it reached his eyes.

Yep, she thought. No chance at all. How could she resent spending time with this sweet little girl and her partner, who looked so content. She couldn't. She felt the annoyance from earlier melt away.

She grabbed her coat off of the couch and smiled. "Ready."

* * *

><p>He watched her exit the building, walking side by side with her partner, the little girl skipping happily along, holding his hand. They were smiling, talking, laughing as they walked to her partner's car parked a block away at a meter. <em>How sweet<em>, he thought sardonically.

She looked happy, care-free even. She had a new apartment, she was living with the boyfriend, had a close friendship with her partner. Things seemed to be going well for her. And she looked good. She was dressed casually in dark jeans, a black v-neck shirt and a black leather jacket that hung open in the front. Her hair was longer than when he had last seen her, falling a couple of inches above her shoulder, a deep brown mass of loose curls with perfectly interspersed flecks of warm brown where the sun caught the highlights in her hair.

He felt a familiar stirring within. Impatience gnawed at him. It'd been easy enough to find out where she lived, all he had to do was follow her home from work. Unfortunately, he was still going to have to wait a little longer. He wasn't ready yet. It was difficult to do everything he needed to do and get the things he needed without being recognized or drawing the attention of the police. He'd made progress. He had only a little money and clothes that didn't fit when he left the hospital. He had ducked into the first room he'd come across when he'd escaped the prison ward and taken the occupant's clothes and wallet out of the closet. He'd come along way from there. The cash in the wallet had been his lifeline. He'd needed to switch clothes. The ones he'd stolen were so big they looked ridiculous and would eventually invite scrutiny. He found a Goodwill in a neighboring town and bought jeans and a couple of t-shirts for $10. With the cash that remained he was able to buy a little food and the rest was left for gas. But he also needed to switch cars again. He couldn't keep the Honda. It wasn't practical. He required a car with keys that he could drive like a normal person, not a person who had just escaped from prison. The only problem was getting a different car without stealing it and drawing attention was going to be infinitely more difficult than getting clothes or food. He'd been fortunate, though. He overheard an interesting conversation while shopping in nearby Cropsyville about a couple that were on a month-long mediterranean cruise. That was exactly the break he needed. It hadn't been hard to find their place based on the conversation. He had broken in, taken their car and left the Honda in their garage. He'd also helped himself to whatever food, supplies and money he found in their house. Eventually they'd come back, the Honda would be found, the break in would be reported. But it would be done by then and he'd be in another state.

They finally reached the partner's silver car and got in. He started up the black Toyota SUV he'd stolen and waited for the silver car to merge onto the street. He watched the car pull forward and start down the road. He followed, maintaining plenty of distance. He was curious where they were going looking so happy. He was going to find out. He wanted to know everything she was doing. It was the only way to he was going to get to her. As he drove, he pictured the three of them walking happily down the sidewalk and the slightest whisper of an idea started to form in his mind. An idea that would get him everything he wanted and then some. He eyed the silver car ahead and continued contemplating the possibilities. Yes, he thought. If he could pull this off, he would hold all of the cards. He hit the large knob in the center of the console and a loud rock song began blasting through the speakers. _Let the fun begin._

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><p>Will Zara see the snow leopards? Will Brian get his souvenir? Find out next chapter. (said in a very dramatic voice) Much lighter than chapter 1, right? Let me know what you think.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

I know I always start the same way, but as always I want to thank those who reviewed the last chapter. It is much appreciated. This chapter is way too long and a bit slow so my apologies on that. Unfortunately it's all planned out a certain way in my head and I have to go with it. I had more trouble with this chapter than 1 & 2. Probably because I was cheating on chapter 3 with chapters 4 & 5. I just couldn't get my mind off of 4 & 5. The end of chapter 3 kicks off the shift back to darkness and we wallow in the darkness for a good long while after that. There's a good chance I'm going to have to change this to an M in the future just to be safe. I'll cross that bridge when I get to it. So anyway...hope you enjoy and let me know what you think.

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><p>It turned out to be a beautiful day. The sky was cloudless, the sun was shining. Nick, Olivia and Zara had ditched their jackets after an hour, enjoying the warmth of a nice 65 degree day. The zoo was crowded. It seemed the promise of such beautiful weather had given everyone the same idea. There was an endless stream of people, walking the paths, congregating around the animal enclosures, jostling for position in the best viewing spots. There was a consistent buzz of excited chatter that could be heard throughout the park. The smell of french fries, burgers and pizza permeated the air.<p>

Nick, Olivia and Zara were seated at a small table in the Terrace Cafe having taken a break to eat lunch. Nick was still finishing off his burger and fries, while Olivia and Zara sat huddled together over a zoo word search...Zara with pen in hand, her face a mask of concentration and Olivia watching and offering her help when it was requested.

"So what's your favorite animal so far," Nick asked his daughter.

Zara looked up and considered his question for a moment. "Mmmm...I think the gorillas."

"The gorillas, huh? Why the gorillas?"

Zara looked at her father as if he was missing something obvious. "Because they're funny," she giggled and put her head back down.

Olivia raised her eyebrows at Nick and laughed with Zara.

"That they are," Nick agreed, smiling at the two of them. His daughter, his partner. Two of the most important people in his life. He couldn't imagine a better way to spend a day.

After a few minutes, Zara appeared to have finished her word search. She put the pen down and stared at her father. "Can we go see the snow leopards now?"

They had tried to see them first thing when they entered the zoo, but had found a sign on the enclosure explaining the habitat was being cleaned and requesting visitors come back after 11:00 am.

Nick checked his watch. It was 11:30. "We sure can."

Zara was ecstatic. She hopped out of her chair, positively glowing with excitement.

They started the long walk to the back of the zoo, following blue signs labeled Himalayan Highlands where the exhibit was located. On the way, they passed through Tiger Mountain and managed to get Zara to stop for a few minutes to observe the tigers, figuring they should see as much as they could on the way. They passed through Reptile World next, which both Zara and Olivia seemed happy to skip altogether. As they were leaving the area, Zara stopped in her tracks.

"Look," she yelled, pointing to a large, colorful turtle made of some kind of stone that two children were currently seated on, their parents a few feet away snapping pictures.

"Very cool," Olivia agreed. "I think we definitely need to get a picture of you on it."

Zara nodded her head while continuing to watch the two children still situated on the giant turtle, eagerly waiting for them to dismount.

Finally the parents seemed to have had their fill of pictures and went to help their children off of the turtle. Zara rushed forward, attempting to climb up on her own, but the figure was just a little too tall and she slid back down. Nick ran forward, grabbed Zara and swept her up and onto the back of the giant turtle. He turned around, walked a couple of steps back, and then faced her again. He smiled and gave her a thumbs up. Zara waved happily to him as if he were miles away and she was desperately trying to get his attention.

Olivia pulled out her phone and navigated to the camera function. She started to raise the phone up to take a picture, but then she stopped and faced Nick. "Why don't you get in there with her?"

"Yeah, Dad! Come on!"

Olivia motioned to Zara, "You heard her."

"Ok," Nick complied, shrugging. He ran back to stand beside the large turtle figure, putting an arm around his daughter. Olivia raised her phone and took a shot of father and daughter smiling.

She was about to take another one when she sensed someone at her side. She twisted on the spot and found a pleasant-looking older couple smiling at her.

"Hi," she said in an uncertain voice.

"Dear, I'll do that," the older woman said gesturing to her phone. "You go get in the picture with your husband and daughter." The woman reached for her phone as Olivia began to protest. "No, I'm not...I mean, they're not..." But she was cut off by Nick's voice. "Come on Liv, get in here." She looked at Nick, shaking her head, feeling like it would be weird, especially after they had just been mistaken for a family. But then she looked at Zara. She was beckoning her forward with her hand. That was all it took...it was like she was on autopilot, even her traitorous feet knew she couldn't say no. She relinquished the hold on her phone, while pointing to the camera screen still on display. "You just have to tap the screen where that circular button is and..."

"Hon, I have 4 grandchildren. Trust me, I've got this figured out by now."

"Oh, right...ok." She hurried forward to the large turtle on the opposite side of where Nick was standing. She leaned in towards Zara, and wrapped an arm around her.

"Ok, everybody smile," the woman said, her voice lilting playfully.

They heard the click of the camera once and then a second time. After a few more photos, the older woman lowered the phone and started walking toward them to return it to Olivia. Olivia met her half way while Nick helped Zara down from the giant turtle. "Thank you..."

"Grace," the older woman replied with a genuine smile. "That's my husband, Henry," she said pointing to the older man who was waiting a few feet back. Henry waved genially.

Olivia waved back. "Well, thank you Grace. That was very kind of you." Olivia accepted the phone from Grace's outstretched hand.

"Oh you're welcome. You all enjoy the rest of this beautiful day." She waved to Zara and Nick, who had not quite reached them yet, and then returned to where Henry was waiting for her. She grabbed his hand and they continued strolling along in the opposite direction.

"Can I see the pictures," Zara asked as she reached Olivia, Nick following closely behind.

Olivia opened her phone's photo album and gave the phone to Zara. She began scrolling through the pictures, studying each one of them carefully. Nick and Olivia both watched Zara examining the pictures until Olivia finally broke the silence.

"Surprise, you're married again," she cracked, motioning to Grace and Henry who were slowly disappearing from sight.

Nick followed her gaze to the older couple. He turned back to her and grinned. "Who gets to tell Cassidy? I volunteer to do the honors."

Olivia rolled her eyes and laughed at this.

"You know, she wasn't that far off. We're partners, so we're practically married," Nick reminded her, good-naturedly.

"Can't argue with that," she conceded, considering she spent more time with him than anyone else.

"This one." Zara declared, interrupting their conversation, holding the phone up for them to see.

"Yeah, that's a good one," Nick agreed taking the phone from her and inspecting the picture. He held the phone out to Olivia. She took it and examined the picture of the three of them, smiling, happy. It was a good picture. She nodded her head in approval.

"I'll send it to your dad," she told Zara.

They charged forward again on their mission to get to the snow leopards, Zara becoming more enthusiastic with each blue sign they passed. When the enclosure was within sight, she ran the last few feet to it.

There was a mass of people in front of the opening watching two large cats run, jump and swat at each other playfully. They were putting on a quite the show. Nick came up behind Zara and lifted her onto his shoulders so she could see the action. She chatted excitedly to her father about every movement the cats made, though Nick could see everything that was happening. After watching the action for a couple of minutes, Olivia decided to look around and see if there was anything else to view in the area. She walked to one side of the enclosure and then the other, when she noticed a second, smaller group of people huddled around one small area of glass. She hurried to the glass to see what they were watching and then she jogged back to where Nick was still standing with Zara on his shoulders.

"Zara, come with me," Olivia beckoned with a wide smile. Nick put his daughter down and she ran to Olivia, grabbing her outstretched hand. They all ran around the corner to the glass opening in the enclosure, squeezing in next to two little boys and their parents who stood behind them.

"Look," Olivia said, pointing. On the other side of the glass was a young snow leopard cub, half the size of the two adult cats they had previously been viewing. The young cub was stretched out on her back, paws against the glass, seemingly as entertained by the people on the other side as they were with her.

"Awwwwwww," Zara squeaked. She put her hand to the glass and moved it slowly, back and forth as if she was petting the cat. "She's soooo cute!"

The little boy standing next to Zara turned to her while pointing at the young snow leopard. "Her name is Maya, right Mommy," the boy questioned, looking back at his mother. "Yes, Ethan, that's the baby Maya." Zara grinned, happy to have a name to assign to the adorable young cub.

Zara watched Maya intently, taking in every movement, every sound. Olivia pulled out her phone and held it out in front of her. "Hey Zara, smile."

Zara spun toward her and when she saw the intent was to take her picture with Maya, she leaned closer to her and smiled broadly. Olivia took the picture and then held the phone out for Nick to see while Zara resumed observing Maya.

"Wow, you weren't kidding, she's mesmerized," Olivia said, watching Zara.

"Yeah, I have a feeling we're going to be here a while," Nick admitted.

But after about 5 minutes had passed Maya rolled over to her stomach and got to her feet. She paced back and forth against the glass a few times and then in a flash, she bolted further into the enclosure where she could no longer be seen. Zara's shoulders fell in disappointment. She got up, turned away from the glass and looked to Nick and Olivia with sad eyes.

"Hey, there's nothing to be sad about. We can't stay here and watch them all day anyway," Nick told her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "And, I bet if we go to the gift shop, you could find a snow leopard to take home with you. What about that?"

Zara brightened up and nodded her head vigorously.

They made their way to the front of the zoo, into the main building where the gift shop was located. Zara's eyes lit up with excitement as they entered the shop, seeing all the zoo merchandise for the first time. She weaved in and out of racks of clothing, aisles of souvenir cups and toys, Nick and Olivia shadowing her every move. She stopped when she came to a wall full of stuffed animals in every size and variety imaginable. It didn't take Zara long to find what she was looking for...she pointed to a medium-sized stuffed snow leopard mid way up the shelf.

"Can I have that one, Dad?" she asked, hopefully. Nick grabbed the stuffed animal and held it out to her.

"This one?" Zara nodded her head enthusiastically.

"Alright, mi pajarita. Let's go get in line so we can pay for it."

He put his hands on her back starting to usher her toward the cashier, when she stopped him.

"Wait, Olivia has to get something for Brian." She turned to Olivia and looked up at her expectantly.

"Oh...you're right. You have a very good memory." Olivia shared a glance with Nick that said she hadn't expected her to remember that particular promise.

"Why don't you pick out something for Brian?" Olivia swept her hand around the gift shop. "I think you're probably better at this than I am."

Zara appeared ready to take on this newest task. She gazed around the gift shop, a finger to her mouth, considering all options. She led them through a maze of aisles, picking up random items and then setting them back down. Eventually she returned to the wall of stuffed animals, scanning the contents from top to bottom, her eyes narrowed in concentration. Finally, she walked forward and selected a stuffed gorilla off of the shelf and handed it to Olivia.

Olivia took it from her and held it out so she could look at it. "A gorilla, huh?"

"Yep," Zara chirped back.

Nick was shaking with barely contained laughter. Olivia glared at him and then turned back to Zara.

"Brian will love it," she said, smiling at the little girl.

"It's perfect, Zara," Nick agreed, a hand placed affectionately on her head. He met Olivia's reproachful frown with his own innocent smile and shrug.

"You're having way too much fun with this," Olivia admonished, but in the same breath she felt her own stony façade give way to amusement. She couldn't hide the grin that appeared on her face and instead she looked past Nick, out the window of the gift shop, shaking her head. Her eyes lazily scanned the crowd outside the shop out of habit until she thought she caught sight of something familiar. She did a double take. Surely, it wasn't what...or who she thought it was. Then she froze. Her smile faltered and she heard her own sharp intake of breath. She couldn't move, she couldn't breathe. He was there. Lewis. It was him. She could see him through the window, mere feet away, standing outside of the bathrooms, staring at her while people rushed around him oblivious to the devil in the room. Her heart was racing, heat surged through her shaking body and she felt herself sway unsteadily on her feet.

"Liv." Nick noticed the abrupt change in her demeanor, the way her body shook with small tremors. He was immediately on guard. "Olivia," he implored more insistently, hoping to draw her out of the trance she was lost in.

Her eyes flickered to his for a brief second and then back to the window. He saw that she was terrified. Her head shook in wordless horror, unable to vocalize the source of her terror. He followed her horrified gaze, trying to make some sense of what was going on.

He didn't see anything. He watched Olivia watching the crowd of people that was gathered outside of the bathrooms. Her eyes seemed be searching for someone or something... Whatever it was, she wasn't finding it.

"Liv, are you ok?" Nick asked in a concerned voice. "What's wrong?"

Olivia turned back to him and let out a shaky breath. "I saw him...or I thought I did."

"Lewis." Nick stated matter of factly.

Olivia nodded. She dropped her eyes to the ground, avoiding further eye contact with him. "It happens sometimes...I'm sorry." She was embarrassed and frustrated. She thought back to the trial and how the stress in the days leading up to it had her seeing Lewis everywhere. It always felt so real. It'd been maddening. But, why now? Why today when she was having such a good time with Nick and Zara and Lewis was so far away from her mind? She reasoned with herself that the shock of finding out he had escaped had inevitably reopened some old wounds and there was no rhyme or reason to how or when the mind coped. Still, the flashbacks, the hallucinations, the nightmares...they made her feel damaged. And she hated it. It'd been almost a year now, when was this going to end? But what she hated even more was that her partner had witnessed this most recent episode. How was he supposed to trust her when he saw her like this? Her weakness laid out in front of him, on display...how could he not have doubts about her? In her head she knew that this was something beyond her control and was no indication of her strength or worth as a cop and partner. But the strong, proud part of her that wanted to be seen as the same capable cop and partner that she'd always been couldn't help but feel like a lesser version of her former self.

"Hey," he whispered softly, taking her hand in his. "Don't ever feel like you have to apologize to me or to anyone else. You're still recovering, Liv. And you just went through an incredibly rough trial not that long ago. Give yourself a break."

She squeezed his hand gratefully. "Sometimes this process feels like one step forward and 5 gigantic leaps back," she said with a sad smile. He detected a certain amount of weariness in her voice.

He considered repeating the same thing he'd told her several times over the past year. That she was strongest, bravest person he'd ever met and he felt lucky to have her as a partner. But he knew how that went. She'd get embarrassed and say thanks but she didn't feel like she was any of those things. That was Olivia, though. She held herself to impossible, superwoman-like standards. He wasn't entirely convinced there wasn't a giant "S" concealed beneath the black v-neck shirt she wore now.

"Dad, what's wrong?" Zara asked, having picked up on the serious tone of their conversation.

"Nothing baby, everything's fine. We'd better go get in line." She seemed skeptical of his attempt at reassurance and she watched Olivia carefully as she walked ahead of them to the line holding the gorilla that was meant for Brian.

Zara suddenly whipped around and ran back to the wall of stuffed animals before her father could protest. She grabbed a tiger from one of the shelves and turned back to her father, holding it out to him.

"Can we get this for Olivia?"

Nick smiled at his daughter. He saw the gesture for what it was...an attempt at cheering his partner up. He thought it was a great idea. "Of course, mija."

He put his hand on her back, guiding her back to the line. "Why the tiger?" he questioned, curious.

She turned her head and looked back at him as she walked forward, giving him the same reproachful look she'd given him earlier when he'd questioned her about why she liked the gorillas - like he was missing the obvious answer. "Because they're pretty, like Olivia."

"That they are," he said echoing his response from earlier. _Beautiful_, he thought. _They're beautiful_.

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><p>She'd seen him. He limped as fast as he could to his car, afraid to run and risk drawing attention. He listened as he walked, waiting to hear the sound of sirens. God, he'd been so stupid and reckless. Just like Archer said he was. He should've never gone inside the building. He knew better. But 3 boring hours in the car, an uncomfortably full bladder, and aching legs had made him weak-willed. He'd considered emptying his bladder in some corner of the parking lot, but he was surrounded by parents with children who wouldn't appreciate his exposing himself. That was exactly the kind of attention he was trying to avoid. And he couldn't leave, he had to be there when she left. So he'd reasoned that his best course of action would be to go inside and use the bathroom. Afterall, how many people really stood between him and a bathroom? It couldn't be that many. And they were parents with whiney, screaming kids who wouldn't be bothered to look at his face. Truthfully, there was something about the thought about being among the people inside that excited him. It was also dangerous. Nevertheless, his justifications won out and he'd entered the main building of the zoo to use the bathroom. All had gone according to plan, no one had given him a second thought. And then he saw her through the gift shop window as he was exiting the bathroom and he couldn't make himself move. He'd watched her like a predator watched its prey. That is until her eyes had locked with his. Then he had ducked out of sight and walked away as quickly as possible, certain there would be a trail of law enforcement behind him.<p>

He reached the black Toyota SUV and started it. "No cops," he said aloud, the inflection of his voice made it sound like a question. He didn't know what to make of this. She had seen him, much to his chagrin. It was only a matter of time before they were here, right? He concentrated on listening for sirens again, but he still heard nothing. Surely it wouldn't take the cops this long to respond. And what about her and her partner? Wouldn't they have come after him, guns blazing. Maybe not, he thought. They did have the little girl.

He continued to sit in the car, hands on the wheel, ready to leave. He just wasn't quite convinced yet that he had to leave. As each second went by with no sirens, no glimpse of a cop car, no indication at all that he had been caught, he began to think maybe he wasn't caught at all. She'd seen him, of that he was sure. He saw the look on her face. There was no mistaking the recognition and the horror in her eyes. But for one reason or another, it appeared she didn't believe what she had seen. Maybe he'd gotten lucky.

Five minutes later, he knew he had. He saw them exit through the gate, walking toward their car, holding stuffed animals and chatting animatedly. He slouched down in the driver seat, unwilling to take any further chances even though he was a good 5 or 6 rows away. They all got in the car and again he waited for the car to start moving so he could follow. He had been lucky, so incredibly lucky. He resolved to be more careful from now on. By the end of the day, he'd have all the information he'd need. And then, it would be time to move. He was so close to getting what he wanted. There could be no more mistakes.

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><p>"This is going to be a long night," Nick groaned, rubbing at his eyes.<p>

"What's the matter Nick, you haven't recovered from your wild day yesterday?" Fin joked.

Nick shook his head at the lame pun. "Really?" Fin chuckled.

"I stayed up late last night after Zara fell asleep, priming her room." He'd gotten a new place after the shooting. It was a nice 3 bedroom house with a little more space than his last place. And, though it needed a little work, it was starting to feel like home. Zara had her own room, but he hadn't had a chance to really make it hers yet. The walls were an ugly shade of yellow and the carpet needed replaced. He was going to paint the room a nice shade of purple this week when Zara was back in D.C. and surprise her with it next weekend. But she was so exhausted from the trip to the zoo, that she'd fallen asleep in the living room watching a movie. He'd seen an opportunity. He wasn't sure what had possessed him to start painting at 9 pm. But it was worth it when she saw the first coat of purple after he put it on the next morning.

"Ah man, what were you thinking?" Fin asked, shaking his head.

"I was thinking that I had the weekend off," Nick bantered back.

Technically the squad did have the weekend off. But when a vic that turned up in the hospital was suspected to have escaped the serial killer that had already claimed 3 lives, there was no such thing as time off. They had opted for an all female presence to interview the victim, so Olivia and Amanda went to the hospital while he and Fin worked the crime scene. Fin read through the file in his hand.

"No prints, no dna...this guy's a regular Houdini."

Nick nodded somberly. "At least this girl is alive. Hopefully Liv and Amanda got something useful from her."

As if on cue, Olivia and Amanda entered the squad room, appearing very weary.

Fin watched them both take a seat at their respective desks and glanced between them. "How'd it go with the vic? She give you anything that will help us get this guy?"

"Awful," Olivia muttered, elbow propped up on her desk, forehead resting in her hand. The interview had taken a toll on her.

"Her name is Maddie Roberts," Amanda continued. "24 years old. The girl is traumatized and pretty banged up. She couldn't tell us much. No description of her attacker...he wore a mask. And a very vague estimate on height and weight. We're going to have her meet with a sketch artist tomorrow and see if she's any clearer." Amanda looked down at her notes. "Uh...the perp didn't say anything while he was there. And it appears he was scared off by police sirens. There was a disturbance at the apartment building across the street and he must've thought they were coming for him. Maddie says he bolted as soon as the sirens got close."

"Are we sure this isn't..."

"It's not him, " Olivia interjected, knowing exactly what Fin was thinking. "The first murder took place 3 weeks ago, two weeks before he escaped. And Maddie said the guy wasn't much taller than her. She's 5'4."

The four of them shared a look...there was a certain amount of relief that it wasn't him, but at the end of the day, they still had a monster to catch.

The silence was interrupted by the sound of Nick's phone ringing. He picked it up off of his desk and checked the number. It was Maria. He got up from his desk, walked a few feet away and answered the call.

"Hey Maria, sorry I couldn't..."

"Nick." They had been married for years, he knew her voice...it sounded wrong. "Nick please tell me Zara is with you." A cold dread began to seep into his bones.

"No, I got called in. My mom's staying with her at the house. You haven't picked her up yet?"

"Oh God." Maria began uttering unintelligible words amidst sobs and Nick, in his panic, fought the urge to scream at her.

"Maria, I need you to tell me what's going on. Now." Each syllable he spoke was laced with desperation.

"I'm at your house. Your mom...Nick, it's bad. Zara's not here," She cried. "She's gone."

He couldn't recall letting go of the phone or hearing it crash to the floor. His mind registered one thought and one thought only. Zara gone. The words felt foreign to his mind. This couldn't be right.

He was vaguely aware of his partner's worried voice behind him. "Nick what's wrong," she probed, anxiously.

He spun to face her, looking around the squad room in shock, his hand to his mouth trying to hold in the sob that wanted to tear free from his lips. Olivia came closer to him, her brown eyes shone with concern. "Nick," she whispered softly, the question implied in her tone. Nick took his hand away from his mouth. "Zara's gone," he said in an anguished voice. And then he sprinted out of the squad room.

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><p>Ok, again...entirely too long, so if you made it this far, thanks for sticking it out.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks to all who are reading and a special shout out to the rock stars reviewing. I swear my chapters get longer as I go. However, I was told by a reader that there's no such thing as a chapter that is too long, so I'm taking that as carte blanche to be as wordy as I like. ;o) Police procedure and medical knowledge are not my thing, so I apologize for any and all inaccuracies and ask that you blame google instead of me. I don't own Law and Order SVU or any of the characters...blah, blah, blah. Hope you enjoy the read.

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><p>Nick stood in the doorway of the small room with purple walls, staring at his daughter's empty bed and the half-packed school bag that lay across it. The stuffed snow leopard, Maya, he'd bought Zara at the zoo lay outside of her bag, taunting him mercilessly. She never would've left without Maya. It had been in her hands every second since they'd returned from the zoo.<p>

The rapid clicking of a camera shutter interrupted his silent reflection. He reluctantly looked back around the door frame to where CSUs were photographing a large, deep, red stain against the thick, cream-colored fibers of the carpet in his living room. The contrast of it was chilling. He dropped his gaze to the baseball bat that lay just feet from him, the end of it stained red with blood. His mother's blood. He was assaulted by images of her as he'd found her when he arrived, her head broken open, lifeless, lying in a pool of her own blood. He swallowed down a wave of nausea at the thought. It had been 2 hours since he'd watched the ambulance take her away to the hospital, Maria following behind in her blue 4 door. He wanted to be with his mother. He was afraid she wouldn't make it after seeing the severity of her injury, but he couldn't abandon Zara. She needed him right now. Maria, having seen his dilemma and knowing she could do nothing to help the investigation, had offered to go to the hospital with his mother. It must've been difficult for her and he was incredibly grateful. He hadn't heard anything from her yet. He hoped no news was good news.

One of the CSU technicians picked up the bat and began dusting it for prints. He resumed his examination Zara's room. He recalled her delight at seeing the new color on the walls and the wrinkle of her nose as she inhaled the smell of the fresh paint earlier that morning. He sniffed, hoping to find some small comfort in that smell. He found none. The only odor he could detect now was the sickening metallic stench of blood.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, but he didn't bother to turn around. He already knew who it belonged to. The soft vibration of her voice behind him confirmed it.

"Nick, we are going to find her."

He faced her and ran a hand over his face. Olivia had been every bit the Sergeant for the past 2 hours. She'd arrived just minutes after he had and promptly called Fin and Amanda, the CSU, and gotten uniformed officers out in the neighborhood searching for Zara...everything he should've done when he'd arrived. But he'd been paralyzed by fear, horror and a certain surreality to the situation. He had almost been convinced it was all a nightmare. Except there was a blood stain in his living room and a stuffed snow leopard in an empty bedroom with purple walls.

"It's been 2 hours." His eyes were wet with unshed tears. "What's happening to her?"

Olivia held up her hands. "Nick, no, you can't think like that." He was distraught. She was afraid he would shatter to pieces in front of her and she wouldn't be able to put him back together. But what kind of comfort could she offer a man who had lost his entire world? She walked forward and wrapped her arms around him. He was rigid at first and then she felt the tension leave his body. He squeezed her tightly to him, holding on to her like she was going to disappear next.

"I can't lose her." His voice was broken and it made her heart ache.

"Listen to me," she said leaning out of his embrace, meeting his eyes. "I promise you we are going to bring her home," she said with unwavering determination. There was a steely resolve in her eyes. It was a look he knew well. At times it had been his enemy, but right now it was his friend. He believed in the mettle behind that look.

"Come on," she said, motioning for him to follow her.

They walked down the hallway, through the blood-stained living room, to the kitchen, where they met Fin and Amanda.

"Anything," Nick asked, looking at them hopefully.

"Not yet," Amanda answered, eyeing Nick sympathetically. "No sign of forced entry and no finger prints on the bat at first glance."

"Unis are canvasing the neighborhood looking for witnesses, AMBER Alert's been issued and we have an APB out on Zara to every police station, tollway, bus station, airport, train station...you name it," Fin reported.

The ringing of a phone echoed from Nick's side and he pulled the phone out of his coat, turned around and answered it eagerly.

Olivia, Amanda and Fin watched him, then Olivia turned to them and let out a heavy sigh. "When we're finished here, we need to get back to the precinct - regroup, check for sex offenders in the area and start looking at past cases. Find out who's been released recently."

Fin and Amanda nodded in agreement. "This wasn't a break in, might be someone they know," Fin suggested.

"Yeah," Olivia agreed, distractedly, "maybe. We'll have Nick and Maria make a suspect list."

They listened as Nick ended his conversation and met him with questioning stares, wordlessly waiting for an update.

He pointed to the phone before stuffing it back in his pocket. "That was Maria. She said my mother never regained consciousness. She's in surgery right now and it's probably going to be awhile."

"That's good news, right," Amanda asked, hesitantly. "She made it into surgery, that has to be a good sign."

"Yeah," Nick said softly, eyes down examining his hands, "it is."

Olivia, Fin and Amanda shared a glance before Olivia spoke up. "CSU is almost done and there's nothing more we can do here. Let's head back to the precinct."

They all stared at Nick, waiting for his response. He paused, looked back into the living room and nodded his voiceless assent.

* * *

><p>He'd been driving for hours, but he was finally getting close. The highway he was traveling was dark and deserted which suited him just fine. He glanced to the back where his guest was laid out across the seat. She was sleeping soundly thanks to the pill he'd forced her to take. She'd needed it after he'd beaten the old woman. But that, too, was a necessity. He couldn't have a witness left to report the disappearance. He'd needed time to get out of the city and he'd made sure he got it.<p>

No, it was best for her to sleep. He liked the quiet. It allowed him to focus on the next step, on what was so close to being within his grasp. One more trip. He would drive this particular stretch of highway one more time with another guest in the car. And she? She would sit in the passenger seat beside him, uncuffed, and she'd never think to run away. He knew that like he knew his own face. She'd do it naked if he told her to. He grinned. The anticipation was so great he was practically shaking with it. But he had to find the right time and place to get to her.

He glanced back again at the little girl, looking for signs that she was stirring. He recalled watching her come out of the apartment building that day and it gave him an idea. He decided they needed to have a little chat. She might just be useful as something more than bait.

* * *

><p>Hours had passed and they still had no leads on who had taken Zara. Olivia finally convinced Nick that he should take a break and go to the hospital. She knew Maria would be waiting for an update and she hoped there would be some news on his mother.<p>

They all sat, side by side, backs to the wall, watching the set of double doors that led to the surgical rooms. It was quiet except for the sound coming from the TV mounted high up on the wall across from them.

Nick and Olivia updated Maria on the investigation, explaining everything that was being done to find Zara. Maria told them what she knew of Cesaria's condition which wasn't much.

"I just can't believe this is happening," Maria said, wiping at her eyes. "I keep thinking I'm going to wake up and she'll be here, but she's not. I hate sitting here, I hate that I can't do anything to find her." Fresh tears were rolling down her cheeks.

"You helped by being here," Nick assured her. "We will bring her home."

"It's been hours. She must..."

Maria stopped mid sentence and placed a hand over her mouth. She was staring at the TV, her eyes wide, looking as though she'd seen a ghost. Nick and Olivia followed her gaze. It was an AMBER alert broadcast. There was a picture of Zara on the TV. She was kneeling down and smiling next to a window of glass with a little snow leopard on the other side. It was the picture Olivia had taken of her at the zoo. They listened as the news anchor gave details about what Zara was wearing when she went missing.

Nick reached a hand over and placed it on Maria's, both continuing to stare at the TV and the picture of their daughter.

The alert ended abruptly and they all sat in silence, resuming their watch of the double doors.

A few minutes later, a good-looking, middle-aged man dressed in scrubs walked into the waiting room, scanning the faces.

"Family of Cesaria Amaro."

"Yes." Nick jumped out of his chair, Olivia and Maria falling in beside him.

"And you are?"

"I'm her son, Nick Amaro."

"Ok, Mr. Amaro. I'm Dr. Adams," he held his hand out to Nick and Nick shook it quickly, "I'm treating your mother."

"How is she," Nick asked anxiously.

"Your mother suffered what we call a decompression skull fracture caused by a blow to the head. Essentially, a portion of your mother's skull was hit with such force that it caused part of the skull to break away and extend into the brain cavity."

Nick closed his eyes and rolled his head from one side to another. Olivia placed a hand on his forearm, silently offering up her support.

Dr. Adams continued, "Your mother underwent brain surgery when she was brought in to remove fragments of her skull that entered the brain cavity and repair any damage those pieces did. We also added a synthetic piece of skull where the fracture occurred to protect the brain. She's out of surgery and we'll be moving her to the ICU shortly."

"So she's going to be ok," Nick asked hopefully. Maybe she would wake up, maybe they would have a lead on Zara soon.

Dr. Adams looked up from his clipboard and his face softened, sympathetic blue eyes meeting Nick's. "I can't make any promises, Mr. Amaro. The brain is complicated. Our biggest enemy right now is actually the body's natural healing mechanism. If you twist your ankle, it swells. No big deal," he said, flinging a hand out to the side. "It's the body's response to injury. The same thing happens when the brain is injured, but because the brain is enclosed in the skull, it creates pressure within the skull as it swells. Too much pressure and the brain gets pushed against the skull or down on the brain stem. If that happens we're looking at serious brain damage or worse."

"So what happens now? How do you stop that from happening," Nick asked, sounding a little impatient.

"We've put your mother in a medically induced coma." He paused, giving them a moment to absorb this information.

"A coma?" Nick's face fell. It wasn't the news he wanted...not for his mother and not for Zara.

"Yes," Dr. Adams confirmed, "it's a drastic action, but one that I feel is absolutely necessary. We essentially shut off your mother's brain. This will give her brain a chance to rest and hopefully heal itself while reducing the swelling."

"How long will she be in the coma?"

"I can't give you a specific time frame. It could be days, it could be weeks. It depends on what we're seeing from the brain scans and how well we are able to manage the swelling." He looked between the three of them. "I'm not going to lie to you, there is a chance that she won't wake up from this. There are no guarantees, but as I said earlier, I believe this is her best chance."

Nick looked away from Dr. Adams, running a hand through his hair. He wanted to ask his last question, but he felt his throat constricting with emotion and took his time, waiting for the sensation to disappear. "Can I see her?"

"Of course," Dr. Adams affirmed with a nod. "As soon as she's settled in the ICU."

Nick gave a brief nod. "Ok, thank you doctor."

Dr. Adams walked back through the double doors, disappearing from sight.

"You ok," Olivia asked Nick.

He continued watching the double doors where Dr. Adams had disappeared.

"Yeah. I guess I need to go to the ICU." He looked to Maria. "Thank you for everything. It means a lot that you were here, but you should go get some sleep."

She gave a sad smile at this. "I'm not sure I can sleep. I'd like to see her and then maybe I'll give it a try."

"Nick why don't you go ahead and we'll meet you up there. I wanted to see about getting a suspect list from Maria." Olivia turned Maria. "If that's ok with you?"

"Sure, anything."

He considered arguing that he should be present and participating in the interview, but then he recalled the Captain's directive that he steer clear of any witness interviews or interrogations of suspects or he'd send him home. He didn't want that, he needed to be able to do something. So instead he nodded and trudged ahead to the elevator.

"We're looking for an enemy, someone you fought with recently. Or maybe someone you noticed around Zara that seemed out of the ordinary. Anything at all," She told her gently. "It's standard procedure, Nick's doing the same thing."

Maria stared at the elevators, where Nick had been seconds ago, and then looked back to Olivia. "There is something that I need to tell you."

* * *

><p>Amanda gazed at the clock on the wall with heavy eyes. She watched the seconds tick away, trying to wrap her mind around how many of those seconds Zara had spent away from her mother and father. <em>18 hours<em>. She continued counting the seconds. 18 hours is a long time, she thought.

They had no good leads. There was no ransom note, no call and no witnesses. Well there was one witness, but she was currently in a medically induced coma at Bellevue hospital.

Amanda let out a disgruntled growl and threw the file she was skimming down onto the desk, relishing the smacking sound it made. It sounded angry. She was getting there fast. She'd only felt this frustrated and useless at her job once before. That had been nearly a year ago when they'd spent 4 days searching for Olivia, only to turn up empty with every new lead. She would never forget the feeling of watching Olivia walk out of the squad room painfully aware that, for all of their effort, they had been no where near finding her. Olivia, after being beaten, tortured, starved and dehydrated, had to fight her way out of hell, because they hadn't helped her. The guilt still ate at her even now. It had almost destroyed the squad. Now it was Zara. But Zara wasn't Olivia. She was a little girl, she wasn't going to be able to fight her way out of her hell. They would have to find her. That realization brought her back to the stack of files on her desk. She and Fin had started digging through old cases looking for any perps that had recently been released. Especially anyone that stood out as having a vendetta against Nick.

"You finding anything," she asked amid a yawn.

"Nah. Most of the guys in these files are still in prison. And the ones that aren't don't really stick out as having any real beef with Amaro."

Amanda nodded. "Ok, I think we still have a few recents that are worth looking at." Amanda went to the whiteboard, marker in hand.

"Could be blowback from shooting Yusef," she continued, writing the name 'Yusef' up on the board. "Nick's house was shot at while the case was ongoing. There were probably a lot of unhappy people when he wasn't indicted. Maybe someone's idea of revenge?"

"Maybe," Fin said a little skeptically. "But that all seems to have died down. And doing that to his mom? Using his kid like that? Seems a little extreme for Reverend Curtis and that crowd, right?"

"Ok, BX9," Amanda stated, scribbling 'BX9'. "O.G.'s in prison, maybe he found out Nick got information from Wilfredo and blames him for the conviction."

"Except Wilfredo's still out there doing his thing as far as I know. Wilfredo would've been the first person O.G.'s boys targeted."

"Yeah." Amanda agreed, narrowing her eyes at the board.

"Besides, the way Barba tells it, O.G. threatened Liv."

"Seriously," Amanda interrupted, obviously hearing this information for the first time.

"Yeah, a direct threat according to Barba. Liv didn't back down though, she dared him to try it." There was an unmistakable measure of pride in Fin's voice.

"I'm not surprised," Amanda looked away from Fin, her eyebrows furrowed. "I don't like it, though."

"After this last year, who does? But since we're on the subject, what about him?" He gave her a knowing look.

Amanda's eyes flashed with recognition. She went to the whiteboard and wrote the name 'Lewis' on it and then crossed her arms. "That's been in the back of my mind, too. I don't know, though. Lewis has a very specific MO and this isn't it. It doesn't feel like him. Besides why would Lewis be targeting Nick?"

"Well he did testify against him at the trial."

"So did we. It doesn't make any sense. It's always been about Olivia for Lewis. He fixated on her from day one. She escaped him, she kicked his ass and she put him in prison. If he was out for revenge, we both know he'd be coming for her."

Her matter-of-fact proclamation hung like a haunting specter in the air. It was an all too real possibility they had been facing. Amanda felt her skin prickle at the thought. She shook her head, trying to clear her mind of the image of that particular monster. They had enough to worry about right now.

"I guess it's back to digging through files," Fin sighed.

"Yeah." Amanda went back to her desk and put her head down in frustration. "What worries me, as crazy as it sounds, is that it's not revenge," she confided.

She lifted her eyes to meet Fin's and saw her own fears mirrored in his. Revenge had a twisted sort of order to it. They could track that. But a nameless, faceless nobody who took Zara just because they wanted her? Amanda shuddered at the thought of what that meant for Zara.

"Anything," the Captain asked, approaching their desks.

"Not much," Amanda said dejectedly. "A couple of calls on the AMBER Alert but those turned out to be nothing. The Feds don't have anything on their radar. We've been digging through these case files," she held up a manilla folder full of papers, "but with no real evidence so far, we don't have any solid suspects."

"What about on Maria's side? Have we checked into any enemies she might have, anyone out of the ordinary hanging around Zara," Cragen demanded.

"Olivia already took care of that," Fin said holding up a piece of paper. "She went to the hospital with Nick and talked to Maria while she was there. She got a few names from her. She called them over a little while ago."

"There's one interesting person on the list," Amanda added. "Turns out Maria was seeing somebody...a Daniel Wells. She went out with him Friday night, they fought, she ended it and she hasn't talked to him since."

The Captain considered the information, his face emotionless. "Sounds like we need to pay him a visit."

* * *

><p>He pulled his black SUV across the street from the apartment building and looked around. He didn't see their cars, but he hadn't really expected to. He got of the SUV and crossed the street, jogging with his head down. He reached the door of the building and pulled it open, stepping inside hesitantly. He surveyed the lobby of the building, but it was empty. He noted that there were cameras in opposite corners of the room. He could try to hide from them, but why bother? It didn't matter. Those cameras weren't going to help anyone find him if everything went as planned.<p>

He approached the elevator and hit the up arrow with the knuckle of his pointer finger. He kept his eyes forward, focused on his distorted reflection visible in the metallic elevator doors. He heard the familiar ding of the elevator reaching its destination and watched as the doors opened in front of him. A man stepped out, talking on his phone, and walking swiftly towards the doors, never stopping to glance his way. _Good_. He stepped inside the elevator and hit the 7 in front of him. It lit up and he stepped back against the wall contemplating his next move. This was perhaps the only part of his plan that he couldn't guarantee. He was going to have to rely on his old standby...luck. The elevator reached the 7th floor and he turned left as he exited. He was faced with three doors. Three apartments...701, 703 and 705. Not bad, he thought. He liked his odds with only three apartments to contend with. But which one was it? Zara was a smart little girl with a good memory. She had been to the apartment so she had been very useful in getting him this far. But she couldn't tell him the number and he felt very sure she was scared enough that she wouldn't have lied. Well, he would just have to figure this part out on his own. He decided to go for door number 3, apartment 705. He walked further down the hall to the door on the left and tapped lightly on it, knowing if it was her apartment, no one was in there. He listened at the door but heard nothing. He decided this wasn't such a bad idea and did the same at the other doors. He definitely heard the sound of a tv coming from the door on the right, 701. But he got nothing from the middle door, 703. He stepped back and glanced between 703 and 705. He was rethinking his choice. Maybe the middle door. Wasn't the good stuff always behind the middle door? _703 it is_. He pulled out his knife and a paperclip and began to work on the lock.

Five minutes later, he was still huddled over the lock unable to crack it. He was starting to get frustrated. He heard the creak of a door and stashed his tools in his jeans pocket.

"Can I help you young man?"

He turned and found himself face to face with a chubby, older woman standing in the doorway of the apartment on the right with a phone in her hand.

"Uh, I..." _Think_. He pointed to the apartment in front of him. "My brother lives here, Brian. He lives with his girlfriend, Olivia Benson. This is their apartment, right?"

"Yes, it is," she confirmed, still sounding a little unsure of him.

"Yeah, I mean I've never been here before. I've been overseas...Afghanistan," he said, pointing to the scar on his face.

"Oh I see..." she nodded her head sympathetically and he could hear the uncertainty in her voice fade away.

"I'm sorry, my name is William...Will." He held out his hand to her. She smiled at him and took his hand, shaking it lightly.

"I'm their neighbor, Mrs. Stamford."

"Well, it's nice to meet you Mrs. Stamford," he said, flashing a charming smile.

"Anyway," he continued. "I haven't seen Brian and Olivia since I was deployed over a year ago, so my Mom and I...we had this plan to surprise them. She gave me the key to their apartment yesterday when I got in town. She's having dinner with them and then they're going to come back here...I was going to be here waiting in the apartment. Surprise, right? But I must've grabbed the wrong key." He held up the key to the Archer's shack, appearing very upset by his bad luck.

"Are there any staff on site," he asked, scratching absently at his head. "Maybe I could explain the situation to them..."

Mrs. Stamford shook her head. "No. I don't think so. Sorry Will." She did look genuinely sorry. Now what, he wondered. At least he knew which apartment it was. And maybe he'd approach her somewhere else, though he really was hoping for a private reunion.

"Man I can't believe I messed this up. Standing out in the hallway just doesn't seem like much of a surprise," he lamented. "Oh well. Thank you for your time Mrs. Stamford. It was nice to meet you."

He gave a small smile and started toward the elevator.

"Will, wait a second," she called to him. He stopped in his tracks, spun to face her, eyebrows raised, questioning.

She held up a finger and disappeared into her apartment. She came back a few moments later looking pleased with herself.

"Before Brian and Olivia moved in, there was an older, widowed gal like me who lived there. Well, not as old as me," she joked.

"Oh come on. What are you, 45?"

"65," she blushed.

"I never would've believed it. You make 65 look great."

She giggled like a school girl being charmed by the star quarterback. "Oh you're a sweet boy. Anyway, I took care of her cats when she traveled to see her kids, so she gave me this." She held up a bronze key and then offered it to him.

He took the key from her and smiled at her gratefully. "Mrs. Stamford you are a lifesaver," he told her, sincerely.

"Now don't go thanking me yet, you don't even know if it will work." She motioned to the door and he took that as his cue to test it out. He held the key up to the lock and slipped it inside. He paused for a minute, silently pleading for a miracle, and then twisted the key, feeling the lock give way.

"It worked." He motioned to the half-open door and then walked back to where she stood in the doorway, grinning. He offered her the key in his outstretched hand.

"No, keep that and give it to Brian and Olivia when they get home. There's no need for me to have that anymore. Truthfully, I had completely forgotten about it until you came along."

He closed his hand around the key. "Well, I'm so glad that you remembered it. You really saved the day," he assured her walking back to apartment 703.

"I hope Brian and Olivia enjoy the surprise," she said genuinely. "I'm sure they'll be thrilled to see you."

He stepped into the apartment, his back to her, hand resting on the doorway. "You have no idea," he answered, the timbre of his voice suddenly hard. He turned to face her again. "You have a good day," he said before closing the door of the apartment.

"Same to you," he heard her call out as the door shut.

He locked the door and turned, taking in the space around him. A devious grin contorted his face. "Honey, I'm home."

* * *

><p>And that's all she...or I wrote for now. Hope you enjoyed, let me know what you think.<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

My sincerest apologies for the delay in posting this chapter. I feel like a big meanie considering where I left off. It was not intentional, I promise. My work schedule has made writing really difficult the past couple of weeks. The good news is my schedule will slow down soon and I should have more time. The response to last chapter was great, so thank you all for that. I hope you enjoy this chapter and feel free to let me know what you think.

* * *

><p>"Hey," Fin called to Olivia as she entered the squad room, "how's Nick doing?"<p>

She removed her coat and sat down, elbows resting on her desk. "He's..." she paused, considering her words, "shaken, desperate. I feel like I'm watching him try to swim out of a hurricane. He's not giving up, but he's barely holding his head above water."

"What happened to his mom is bad enough, but Zara missing, too? That's more than one person should have to handle."

Olivia nodded her head slowly, staring unfocused at her computer screen. "Yes it is," she whispered. She wished she could do more for her partner. Nick had been a constant for her the past year. She'd come back into the squad room a different person after her two months off, but he'd never doubted her and he had backed her even when he probably shouldn't have. His unwavering support and loyalty meant the world to her. If only she had a similar kind of gesture to offer him, some comfort that would see him through this storm. But all she had to offer were some pretty, but useless words and a shoulder to lean on. She felt woefully inadequate amid such abysmal circumstances.

She turned back to Fin. "He's leaving the hospital soon. Planning to come back here and go through his list again...maybe dig through some case files."

"He needs to be doing something, I get that."

"Yeah. Still no leads," she asked in a way that suggested she expected there to be none.

"Actually, Amanda and I were about to go check out a couple." Olivia's eyes widened at this news and she watched as Fin got up from his desk to retrieve a folder from Amanda's. "We re-ran a search of sex offenders in the area and came up with this guy," he pulled out a mug shot of a young man with a long, pointed nose, a sharp jaw line and shaggy, brown hair, "Lyle Jenkins. He lives 2 blocks away but didn't show up on our initial search. Turns out he moved into the neighborhood 10 days ago and his information was just updated in the registry."

"What was he convicted of," Olivia questioned.

"Raping his 9 year-old niece," Fin answered grimly.

Olivia felt her stomach drop. She'd been fighting against this kind of depravity for 15 years, she was well aware of the possibilities. But up until that moment she'd been so focused on the broad strokes of the case and their lack of leads, she'd managed to avoid seriously considering that Zara could be a victim of that kind of atrocity. Now she was smacked in the face with the reality of it. She looked down at her phone and found she had unconsciously navigated to the picture of her, Nick and Zara that was taken at the zoo. Had it really only been 2 days since they'd been there, smiling and laughing? It seemed like it had happened so long ago.

She was jolted out of her reverie by one of Fin's hands waving in her line of sight. "Earth to Olivia, you ok?"

"Yeah, sorry, just thinking," she said distractedly. "Go ahead."

He gave her a sympathetic look and then continued, "You remember the guy Maria was dating? Daniel Wells. We're also going to interview him. We tried to catch him at work earlier, but his secretary said he was gone for the day. Got a home address over on the west side," he said holding up a piece of paper, "so we'll stop by there after we go see Jenkins."

"How about I take Mr. Wells," she said, holding her hand out to him.

"You sure," Fin asked, handing her the piece of paper with the address scrawled on it. "You know it's supposed to start storming anytime."

Olivia looked down at the address. "I won't melt. Besides, that's over my way...it'll give me a chance to stop by the apartment, see Brian and grab a change of clothes."

She got up from her desk and began putting her coat back on.

"He's all yours. You gonna wait for your partner," Fin asked conspiratorially.

Olivia shook her head. "Captain says no and since Maria was seeing this guy, it's probably not a good idea."

"Yeah, probably not," Fin agreed.

Olivia shoved the address in her coat pocket and turned to Fin. "If Nick gets here before you guys leave, let him know what's going on and tell him I'll be back soon."

"Be safe out there."

"Yep." Olivia gave a half-smile then turned and walked out of the squad room. She stepped into the elevator and waited for the doors to close, taking her phone out of her pocket. She highlighted Brian on her contact list and hit send. The elevator jerked and then started it's descent. She put the phone to her ear, but it wasn't ringing. She held it out in front of her and saw that she had no service. Great. She shoved the phone back in her pocket and felt the piece of paper with Daniel Wells' address against her hand. She took it out, memorizing the information as she stepped out of the elevator and walked swiftly out of the precinct. She stepped out into the parking lot, noticing it was unusually dark for the time of day. She looked up at the sky...there were dark storm clouds rolling in ominously. It's going to be a rough night, she thought.

* * *

><p>Brian Cassidy strolled into the elevator and hit the 7 on the elevator wall. He stepped back and sighed. He felt bad about going home to his empty apartment while much of the precinct was out looking for Zara Amaro. He wanted to be out there helping, but that wasn't his job. His job was to investigate other cops, he thought sardonically. He'd considered trying to see Olivia, offer his support. But he wasn't sure how that would be received. He and Amaro weren't exactly best buddies and he felt bad enough for the guy right now, he'd avoid any action that might antagonize him. He'd just have to call her later.<p>

The elevator stopped at the 7th floor and he got out, turning left and walking quickly past the two apartments that flanked his own. He glanced at the apartment on the right, praying the door didn't open. He put his key in the lock as quietly as he could and twisted, opening the door with a quick motion and stepping inside to safety. He breathed a sigh of relief. Mrs. Stamford was a nice lady, but she really liked to talk. He couldn't count the number of times he'd been ambushed by her in the hallway, forced to take part in a 15 minute conversation about the Price is Right. He had rotten timing it seemed because somehow Olivia seemed to avoid these encounters. She, of course, thought it was hilarious. Well, he had good timing today.

He grabbed his phone from his coat pocket and then slipped out of the coat and threw it on the couch. He walked past the kitchen to the bedroom, eager to get out of his suit. He threw his phone on the bed and started rummaging through drawers. He pulled out a pair of jeans and a grey sweatshirt and laid them out on the bed. He started to loosen his tie when the shrill ring of his phone invaded the room. He glanced down at it and cocked his head to the side. "You've got to be kidding me," he said, incredulously.

"Yeah, Lieutenant," Brian answered briskly.

"You're needed back at the office, now."

"Are you serious? I just got home," Brian said, exasperated.

"Yes, there's been an incident. If you have a problem with that Cassidy, maybe you'd like to go back to working at the courthouse," Lt. Tucker growled through the phone.

Brian closed his eyes and shook his head. "No, it's fine. I'll be there in 20."

"That's what I thought." He heard the click of the call ending and the line was silent.

"Asshole," Brian muttered, glaring at the phone and then tossing it back on the bed. Brian sat down and laid back on the soft mattress, staring at the ceiling of the bedroom. He listened to the sound of the rain outside and heard a distant rumble of thunder. He felt the bed vibrate and saw light coming from his phone screen. He sat up and grabbed it. There was a text message from Olivia._ Interviewing a suspect, then home to grab a change of clothes. See you soon_.

_Perfect._ "Sorry Liv," he said remorsefully, tossing his phone aside. He'd have to call her when he got back to the office. He silently cursed Tucker and IAB for this intrusion. He hadn't seen her in over 24 hours. He decided he'd be paying the 16th a visit. He'd stay out of Amaro's line of sight if necessary.

He lifted himself off of the bed and re-adjusted his tie in the mirror. He picked the phone up off of the bed and walked into the living room, grabbing his coat off of the couch.

Brian shoved his phone in his coat pocket and gave the apartment a quick once over. He opened the door, turned the lock and closed the door behind him. He took a few steps forward and heard the creak of a door to his left. _Mrs. Stamford_. So much for good timing, he thought.

"Oh Brian..."

He continued sidestepping to the elevator with his head turned back to his neighbor. "Hey Mrs. Stamford, sorry I'm in a big hurry. Got called back in for a case," he interrupted, pushing the down arrow of the elevator rapidly. The elevator doors mercifully opened and he stepped inside and smacked the door close button. "You have a good night." The elevator doors jerked and began moving together. He gave one last friendly wave to Mrs. Stamford as the doors swallowed him inside.

"Oh, ok...you too," she called to him.

What a shame, Mrs. Stamford thought. His brother goes to all of that trouble to surprise him and then he has to run right back to work. At least Olivia will get to enjoy the evening with Will.

She smiled at the thought of the happy reunion the three of them must've had and of Olivia and Will in the apartment next to her laughing and catching up. Let those young people enjoy the night, she thought. I'm going to bed.

* * *

><p>He heard the echo of the door closing and stepped out of his hiding place, a kitchen knife in hand.<p>

"It must be your lucky day, Brian," he said out loud.

He walked to the apartment door, looking through the peephole to verify that Brian was gone and saw that the hallway was clear. He turned around and strolled into the kitchen, placing the knife back in the block. He walked through the dining room to the window in the living room. The storm was growing louder and more spectacular by the minute. It was his favorite kind of night. He made his way around the apartment, digging through drawers and opening cabinets. He fingered records, plaques and other items he found on the shelves along the wall. He stopped at the couch and took a seat, briefly lounging back in its comfort. He spotted a sweater lying across a chair in the corner and picked it up. He inhaled the scent. It smelled light, refreshing, sweet...it smelled like her. He inhaled the smell of her again and then put the sweater down. How much longer was he going to have to wait? He felt impatient, the anticipation was so strong. Based on Brian's mutterings, he thought it might not be long. He eyed the door beyond the kitchen and started moving toward the bedroom. He noticed a picture of her and Brian on the wall in the hallway. They were dressed up, leaning into each other, smiling. Her smile mocked him. It said he failed and she'd won. He frowned at it and was overcome by the urge to rip it off of the wall. Unnecessary, said a voice in his head. Leave no trace. Yeah, yeah, he thought to the voice. I got it. He passed by the picture into the bedroom thinking about nothing except wiping the smile off of that pretty face.

* * *

><p>"Hey Nick," Amanda greeted him. "How's your Mom?"<p>

Nick sat down at his desk, "The same. They tell me that's good news. The swelling in her brain hasn't increased much so that's something."

"That's good," Amanda said sincerely.

"Where's Liv," Nick asked, looking across his desk to his partner's empty chair.

"She went to check out one of the people from Maria's list," Fin informed him. "It's by her place so she was gonna swing by home and grab a change of clothes."

Nick's face fell slightly, disappointed and frustrated that he couldn't be out doing more to find his daughter. He gave a subtle incline of his head in acknowledgement of this information.

"Amanda, you ready," Fin asked.

"You guys headed out, too?"

Amanda glanced at Nick remorsefully. "Yeah, we're following up on someone." She wanted to leave out that the someone was a sex offender if possible. She didn't want to cause Nick any unnecessary anguish...he already had enough of that.

She pushed her chair away from her desk and stood.

She saw the door to the Captain's office open and watched Cragen leave his office and approach them looking somber. Nick followed her troubled gaze and pushed his chair back so he could see the Captain.

"Nick..." He paused, seemingly searching for the words to impart what was on his mind. They all tensed. This couldn't be good news. "The body of a young girl was found in Midtown. Now I'm not saying.."

"No," Nick groaned. He bent over, hands on his knees like someone had just punched him in the stomach. He took a few breaths and began shaking his head, "It's not her."

"I'm not saying it is. But the Medical Examiner's office needs someone to verify it's not."

"You telling me they can't figure that out by themselves," Fin sputtered. "Don't they have a picture? What about her clothes, did they match what Zara was wearing?"

The Captain held up his hand to stop Fin, he obviously didn't want to continue the conversation. "Fin, she was bludgeoned pretty badly and she wasn't wearing clothes."

Everyone went silent, all eyes turned to Nick...cautiously awaiting his reaction to this piece of information. It was a blow, no doubt. They were all picturing Cesaria Amaro and the way she'd been beaten.

"I'll go Captain, because it's not her. It can't be," Nick's voice trailed off in a whisper. He finally lifted his head and his eyes found the photo of Zara on his desk. He stared longingly at the picture as if the intensity of his gaze alone would ensure his statement's truth.

"Fin, Rollins...you go with him," the Captain ordered. They silently nodded their acceptance of this task.

"I don't need anyone to go with me," Nick said, stubbornly. "It's not Zara." He got up from his chair, slamming it back into the desk.

"Yes, you do. It's not up for discussion." The Captain turned on his heels and walked back to his office.

Fin and Amanda watched as Nick put on his coat with the kind of force that was unnecessary in such a simple chore. Fin went to Nick and put a hand on his shoulder.

"It's going to be ok man."

Nick turned his head to look at him. "Yeah, I know. I'm fine. You guys ready?"

Fin and Amanda nodded and exchanged a glance as Nick charged ahead toward the elevator.

"Think we should call Liv," Fin asked Amanda as they walked to the elevator.

"Yep," Amanda replied quickly. "He's going to need his partner either way."

* * *

><p>Olivia parked the car in front of her apartment building and turned it off. She watched the rain fall onto the street, lightning crashing down in every direction around her. The wind whipped against the car and she could feel it rock with each gust. She paused a minute, readying herself to run and then flung her car door open, racing out into the rain. She jogged up to her apartment building and charged through the door, relieved to be out of the storm. She approached the elevators and pressed the up arrow, but nothing happened. She tried it again, then stepped back noticing that there were no lights anywhere indicating the elevators were running. The storm must've messed something up. <em>Great.<em>

"I guess I'm taking the stairs."

She sighed, starting the trek up to the 7th floor. If she hadn't been working for over 24 hours straight, she wouldn't have minded. But she was exhausted. Truthfully, this stop at home was probably a bad idea. It was going to be very difficult to walk away from her bed. But Zara was still out there and she had Daniel Wells' alibi to check out. Though she was pretty sure that it was, in fact, going to check out. He didn't appear to be upset or bitter about the break up with Maria. He actually seemed very concerned when he heard about Zara's disappearance and vowed to call Maria and offer his support. She'd been doing this job for years and she could usually see through the subterfuge. She felt pretty confident that he wasn't responsible for Zara's disappearance.

She climbed the last flight of stairs to the 7th floor, opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. There was a loud rumble of thunder and the light above her flickered threateningly. Wouldn't that just be the icing on the cake, she thought. She took the last few steps to her apartment door and stuck her key in the lock, pushing the door open and stepping inside.

She started to reach for the light switch, but she was distracted by the sound of music coming from nearby. She tilted her head in confusion and took a step forward so the living room was visible. The room was bathed in a soft glow coming from a lit candle on the end table. The music she heard was coming from the radio on a shelf against the wall. It was playing a hauntingly beautiful song that she couldn't remember the name of, but it was soft, acoustic and tinkled with the elegant sound of piano. She smiled. Brian was getting all romantic on her. She didn't exactly have time for that right now and she didn't think she could focus on anything except Zara anyway, but it was sweet of him. She threw her coat over the arm of the couch.

"Bri," she called towards the bedroom.

Lightning flashed in the window and the living room was unnaturally bright for a moment. A few seconds later there was a loud crash of thunder and she felt the floor trembling beneath her.

She stared through the window, out into the night where the storm raged on. She could hear the rain fall, clinking steadily against the windows. She went to the radio and turned it off.

"This is so sweet and I wish I had more time, but I've got to get back to the precinct." The sound of the floor creaking emanated from the bedroom. "Bri?"

A shadow appeared in the bedroom doorway and she felt a smile begin to pull at her lips. But something about dark form in front of her set off an alarm inside her head. She had been living with Brian for months. She knew him. She knew his voice, his mannerisms, the way he moved. She was staring into a black abyss with only the hint of a shape visible yet she knew without a doubt that the figure did not belong to Brian. She reached down to her gun and unholstered it, holding it at her side.

"I think you should stay," the shadow whispered to her. Olivia gasped in recognition and brought her gun up level, pointing it at the figure that was still leaning against the door frame. It wasn't Brian's voice, but it was a voice she knew. One she feared, if she was being honest. It was a voice that still haunted her in nightmares and on her worst days, taunted her during the waking hours. A burst of adrenaline surged through her veins, sending her heart into a hammering frenzy in her chest. Her breathing was shaky, much like her gun hand and she closed her eyes briefly and took a breath, attempting to regain her composure.

Another streak of lightning lit the night sky and the interior of her apartment, pulling back the curtain of blackness and revealing the source of the ominous voice. Cold, dark eyes met warm, brown ones for the briefest of moments and then the room was dark again but for the light of the candle.

"You miss me sweetheart?"

He stepped out of the doorway, into the soft glow of light where she could see him. Olivia unconsciously took a step back, maintaining her distance.

He stopped when he stood in line with the kitchen, hands by his sides, unbridled glee radiating from his visage. She scanned him for a weapon, but he appeared to be unarmed. It didn't matter. He was perfectly dangerous without one.

"Don't move Lewis," she said with as much confidence and strength as she could muster, "or I will shoot you."

"I'm not armed, Detective," he told her, holding his hands up in surrender.

"I don't care and it's Sergeant," she said defiantly. She refused to cower before him. She wouldn't let him see the unease she felt. This time she was in control.

"Really? Sergeant Benson." He said it with distaste, shaking his head, indicating that it wouldn't do. "It just doesn't have the same ring to it." He paused. "But you and I, we've gotten pretty close. I think we're on a first name basis, don't you...Olivia?"

She shuddered in revulsion at her name on his lips.

"Shut up," she commanded, inching to the side where her phone lay in her coat pocket, eyes never wavering from her target.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said watching her pull the phone from her coat.

Olivia glanced quickly down to the phone, finding Nick's number. "I said shut up," she retorted, vehemently.

"Ok...but you make that call and your partner will never see his daughter again."

She stopped and stared at him. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What did you say?"

"Oh, now you want me to talk? Yeah, you heard me sweetheart. You make that phone call and Zara's as good as dead," he told her, coldly.

She gaped at him, eyes wide, head shaking, refusing to believe the words that had come from his mouth. It had to be a trick. If he'd heard about Zara she had no doubt he was smart enough to use it to his advantage.

"No, you're lying. You don't know where she is. You're on the wrong side of the gun this time, it's over and you're trying to use her disappearance to keep yourself out of prison."

He rolled his eyes at her. "Oh it's not over, Olivia, give me a little credit. Do you honestly think that I would've come to your apartment, unarmed, and just walked out here if I didn't have leverage," he grinned wickedly. "I can see you're still struggling with this so I'll prove it to you. How about what she's wearing? You cops like that kind of detail," he said matter of factly. "She has on jeans, a short sleeve yellow t-shirt with a little flower on it and a yellow head band in her hair."

"That information is part of the AMBER alert. You could've heard it on the tv or radio," Olivia reasoned, skeptically.

"Ok, looking for a little more. I can do that. Does the AMBER alert also say that I bashed her grandmother's head in with a baseball bat?" His eyes locked on hers, triumphantly daring her to call him a liar again.

Olivia's breath hitched in her throat as the horrifying reality crashed down on her. She recalled the scene she'd encountered when she'd arrived at Nick's house. Cesaria Amaro's lifeless body, surrounded by a large, crimson pool of blood. The blood-stained baseball bat lying feet from where she lay. Those details hadn't been released. There was no doubt in her mind now that he was telling the truth. She felt a fresh wave of panic wash over her body. This was a nightmare. Zara with William Lewis was perhaps worse than any of the scenarios she'd previously allowed herself to imagine. He was the worst kind of animal. She thought back to the beach house and the gleam in Lewis' eye as he spoke of Luisa Nunez. There were no lines he wouldn't cross and that conclusion induced more terror within her than the fear she felt standing just feet away from the monster himself.

"She's just a little girl," Olivia said bitterly.

"She's a cute one. And smart, too. We had a nice little chat...she actually helped me find your apartment," he said, twisting the knife.

Olivia remained stoic, refusing to react. It wouldn't do her or Zara any good. She tried not to think of how long Lewis had been with Zara or what he could've done. She had to focus on finding out where she was and if she was ok.

"Where is she?"

He shook his head. "Oh no, sweetheart. It doesn't work like that."

She put her other hand to the gun and re-asserted her aim, ready to shoot. "Yes it does. You tell me where she is or I'll put a bullet in your head."

"Go ahead. But then you'll never find Zara. And if you do find her, it'll be weeks or months from now," he told her, staring out the window indifferently.

"Then I won't shoot to kill," she said moving her aim lower, "you'll tell me where she is eventually."

"You gonna lie about that, too," He asked pointing to the scar on his face. He started moving toward her and shook his head. "I'll take it to the grave. I can handle whatever you've got, baby."

Her face fell as the futility of the situation began to set in. She had unknowingly been playing a chess match and she was pretty sure she was in checkmate.

"Face it Olivia, without me, Zara will die of dehydration in a matter of days. How long do you think she has...3 days, 4, a week? And she was already pretty sick when I left her. Must've been the pills I gave her," he shrugged. "Whether you like it or not, we're playing by my rules now."

He was inches from her, walking slowly and deliberately in the path of her gun.

"Stay back," she demanded, her voice betraying the increasing helplessness she felt.

He stopped briefly and leered at her. "Or you'll do what? I think we've already established you can't call your squad and you can't shoot me. What are you going to do," he taunted her, moving the last few steps so his chest was pressed against the barrel of her gun. He looked down at her weapon and then back at her, smirking viciously. "You leave that there if it makes you feel better, though."

"What do you want," she whispered, keeping her gun leveled into his chest, unable to surrender this last line of defense though she knew it was no longer a viable one.

Lewis gave her an appraising once over. He reached a hand out to touch her face, but Olivia moved away from the contact, her beautiful features twisted in disgust. He sneered at the rejection and then cocked his head to the side. "What do you think I want?"

* * *

><p>The next chapter will probably be pretty OliviaLewis heavy. Planning to pick up where I left off and we'll see where it goes from there.


	6. Chapter 6

Have I mentioned that I adore all the people writing reviews? Because I do. You all inspire me to keep writing. I had a decision to make with this chapter. It was either post it now or post it tomorrow since I have to work the rest of the day today. I opted for now. I would've liked a bit more time with it, but I think it's mostly ok. I also went ahead and changed this to an M just to be safe for future chapters. This is long. And I'd planned for there to be more, but I put some stuff off until next chapter because it could've taken me a few more days if I included everything I had originally envisioned. This picks up literally right where Chapter 5 left off. I hope you enjoy!

* * *

><p>His words rang in her ears. She knew what he wanted. Of course she did. It seemed foolish now to have ever thought he might have used his escape from prison and subsequent freedom to do anything but come for her.<p>

"You want me, I'm right here," she said, pulling the gun away from his chest, letting it fall to her side. "You've got what you want. Just leave Zara out of it. This is between you and me." Her voice and her eyes beseeched him, but she knew it was a futile effort.

"It's a little too late for that, don't you think?"

He stepped forward, so he was inches from her and he eyed the glock in her hand. "Maybe I better take that. We wouldn't want any accidents...for Zara's sake." He winked at her, then reached down and put his hand over the top of the gun. He began slowly prying her fingers from it with his other hand. She fought against his force instinctively, but intellectually she knew, in the end, she couldn't stop him. She would have to be willing to use her weapon and she wasn't as long as he had Zara. More importantly, he knew she wasn't. He tore the gun from her hand and tucked it into the waistband of his jeans. He pulled the black t-shirt he was wearing over the glock so it was no longer visible.

"There," he said happily, circling behind her as a predator circled its prey, "just like old times."

Though it had been a feeble defense, the gun had offered her some semblance of comfort. But now it was his and the final barrier that separated them was gone. She stood, eyes forward, all too aware of his proximity behind her. She could feel the warmth of his breath against the back of her neck and she squeezed her eyes shut when she felt a finger on her back, tracing the outline of her bra underneath the forest green shirt she was wearing.

The vibration of the phone laying across her coat caught his attention and she exhaled in relief at the interruption. Lewis stepped over to the couch where it lay, glanced at her and then back to the phone. She eyed him uncertainly as he picked it up.

"Let's see what Amanda has to say," he mocked with fake enthusiasm.

He opened the message and read it aloud, "Body of a young girl resembling Zara found. At the Medical Examiner's office with Nick verifying it's not her. Thought you'd want to know."

"Ohhhh this is just too good," he laughed, as he threw the phone down on the couch. "That squad of yours, always chasing their tails."

Olivia barely registered his derision. The word body echoed in her mind. She didn't want to consider that possibility. Was he capable of killing a child? She scoffed internally at her moment of naiveté. Of course he was. He had no feelings beyond a desire to hurt people. There was no guarantee that Zara was alive. She picked up the phone, reading the message for herself.

"Did you kill her," she demanded bitterly. She wasn't sure why she was bothering. Lying was, without question, part of his repertoire. Even so, she couldn't help herself.

"That wouldn't be very smart, would it," he questioned, rhetorically. "Why would I kill the best weapon I have? It's not Zara. She's alive...for now." He turned away from her and walked to the window.

Olivia let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She didn't know why she believed that, but she did. Maybe because she wanted so badly for it to be true. But also because it didn't make sense for Lewis to kill Zara. Zara was the bait...for her. He knew she would do anything to save Zara. Why would he kill her, dispose of her body and risk her being found before he got what he wanted. He wouldn't. She felt some relief at this reasoning. But not much. The fact remained that Lewis was holding all the cards and if she wanted to have a chance of saving Zara, she was going to have to go along with him, as a willing hostage this time. The thought of it reminded her of the moment she'd contemplated death for the first time when she was 9 years old. The terror and the darkness that was creeping into her mind threatened to suffocate her. It might very well have if not for the little girl depending on her. She had to keep her head.

How long would it take for the squad or Brian to figure out she was gone? It wouldn't be 2 days. But it would probably be hours, he'd have a decent head start. The squad would text and call when she didn't show up at the precinct and eventually come to check on her. Would they put Zara's disappearance and hers together? She thought they would. Detectives don't believe in coincidence. And Lewis might even be their number one suspect. She looked down at the phone in her hand and then to Lewis who was at the window watching the storm. There was a way she could be sure they knew exactly who they were dealing with and if she was lucky, maybe Lewis would let something slip. She went to the voice memo option on her phone, hit the record button and then went back to the main screen. This at least would give them something. She glanced at Lewis who had finally lost interest in the storm and was moving back toward her. She placed the phone down on the couch, free of her coat and anything else that might cover it.

"Zara's alive?" She said it with the hint of a question, looking to him for verification.

"That's what I said."

"So what happens now?," she asked.

"I take you to her," he said, pulling a set of car keys from his pocket and jingling them in front of her.

"And then what," she probed further, casually walking away from him and coming to rest behind the couch.

"Then you and I pick up where we left off," he told her, intimidation saturating his voice. "You remember where that was, don't you?"

He stared at her lasciviously. She knew exactly what he was thinking, and, though the thought shook her to the core, she was determined she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her unnerved.

"I do. I was beating you with a bed post," she said with a straight face. It probably wasn't the smartest thing she could've said, but the lack of restraints and the illusion of freedom allowed for some bravado. Yes he held all the cards, but he wanted her alive for now.

He seemed to be amused by her audacity. "That's funny," he said pointing at her. "But where I'm taking you, there are no bedposts. Just concrete and chains." He stopped in front of her, the couch separating them, and fixed her with a pointed stare. "You won't escape this time, he made sure of that."

"Who," she asked, eyeing her phone.

"No one you know," he told her indifferently.

The small bit of hope she had that he was about to let something slip was dashed. She watched him anxiously as he crossed the room, past where her phone lay and prayed that he didn't notice that it was recording their conversation.

"What about Zara," she asked, attempting to keep him distracted. "What's going to happen to her?"

"Nothing," he assured her. "She'll be fine."

"So you'll let her go," Olivia asked skeptically, regarding him warily as he approached her.

"Sure," he agreed, smirking. "If Zara wants to go."

Liar, she thought. Something about the way he answered told her it wasn't going to be that easy. But it didn't matter, she'd have to cross that bridge when she got to it.

Lewis took a step forward and put an arm on one side of her. "What's with the 20 questions, sweetheart," he asked, having effectively trapped her between himself and the back of the couch. "You're not stalling are you? I thought you'd want to get to Zara."

"I do. You're the one playing games," she challenged.

"Oh I'm not playing," he said, his voice thick with longing. He leered at the bit of cleavage exposed just above the line of her shirt. He eyed her purposefully as he reached out and fingered the material, then moved his hand down to touch the bare skin exposed there.

"Don't." She reacted automatically, pushing his hand away.

He inclined his head, studying her. She watched him anxiously, the features on his face which had been mocking and gleeful were now cold and hard. She waited for the inevitable threat that she knew must be on his tongue, but he remained silent. She barely registered the hand that came up from his side and swung toward her, the back of it smacking loudly against the right side of her face, the impact snapping her head to the side. She bent over trying to recover her balance, pain radiating over the area where he'd struck the blow. She put a hand to her cheek and straightened up, chancing a glance at him. He was glaring at her and she glared back. He stepped into her and he was so close that their bodies were inches apart. He put his hand on the back of her head and pulled her flush against him.

"My rules," he whispered harshly. "You don't get to say no." He grabbed her hair and yanked her head back for emphasis, "Remember?"

How could she forget? She managed a few brief, jerky nods with his grasp on her hair.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you," he growled.

She winced as he tugged on her hair again. She didn't want to give him this, but refusing would be foolish. She knew how this went. He had something to prove so he'd beat her into submission if necessary. And she'd just be weaker for her refusal. She needed to be strong when she got to Zara, when it might matter.

She took a deep breath. "Yes," she said through gritted teeth.

"Good," he said, relaxing his grip on her hair. Then he used the hand on the back of her head to pull her to him and pressed his lips against hers with bruising force. There was nothing sexual about his action...it was all power and control. He was making a statement.

A small whimper escaped her throat and she balled her hands up in fists at her sides, eager to push him away, but knowing that would only ensure further torment.

He finally released her and she backed into the couch, desperately creating space where there had been none. Her chest heaved and she wiped a hand across her lips attempting to erase the feel and taste of him from them.

They considered each other momentarily, then Lewis broke the silence. "Time to go."

* * *

><p>"What's taking so long," Nick asked impatiently. "They called us."<p>

He was sitting with his hands on his knees, Fin and Amanda on either side of him, in the lobby area of the Medical Examiner's office.

"I'm sure they'll be ready soon," Amanda said, watching Nick's legs bounce with anxious energy.

Nick shook his head skeptically and closed his eyes, attempting to relax. This lasted for only a few minutes.

"This is ridiculous," Nick exclaimed. He sprung out of his chair and began pacing in front of them, hands shoved in his pockets, head down. He counted the square brown tiles that lined the floor as he walked to occupy his mind. Every once in a while he would stop, eye the desk attendant typing at a her perch in the middle of the room, and then resume pacing. Intermittently, he sat back down, put his head in his hands and mumbled to himself.

Finally Amanda had seen enough. She got out of her chair and walked to the desk in the middle of the room.

"Hi...," Amanda said reading the name on her badge, "Amy. I know you said the ME wasn't ready for us yet, but can you tell me what's going on? We were asked to come over here as soon as possible."

Amy chomped on her gum and looked at Amanda disinterestedly. "Sorry, can't."

"Ok," Amanda said, her friendly demeanor still intact, "why not?"

"Policy," Amy said simply.

Amanda sighed. "We're NYPD detectives."

Amy stopped what she was doing at her computer. "Doesn't matter, sorry."

Amanda turned and watched Nick pace in front of Fin, worry etched into his face. Her partner was also watching Nick, his concerned eyes straying briefly from him to meet Amanda's. Nick had to be losing his mind and who could blame him. Amanda huffed indignantly and turned back to Amy. Behind her, Fin smiled as watched her turn to the desk attendant knowing his partner was feeling protective and ready to lash out.

"Ok, listen Amy. Someone from your office called and asked one of ours to come identify a body. That man over there," she said pointing to Nick, "his daughter is missing and he needs some peace of mind. The least you could do is tell me when the ME..."

"Detectives."

Amanda looked to her left and found ME Warner in the room, looking like she'd just gotten in. Nick and Fin joined them beside Amy's desk when they heard the familiar voice.

Melinda beckoned them to follow her as she swiped her security card and let them through the door. They walked through a series of hallways, down a flight of stairs until she finally badged them into the morgue.

"I'm sorry detectives. I got called out unexpectedly. There was a cop involved shooting. It's a real mess. Tucker and Cassidy were all over it...you know how it is with IAB."

They all nodded their heads in understanding. Unfortunately, they did.

"Anyway," she continued, opening one of the many drawers that were built into the morgue wall, "I hate to have to call you all here for this." She turned to speak directly to Nick. "It goes without saying, but I pray it's not her."

Nick gave a brief nod in acknowledgement, his eyes downcast.

"Are you ready," she asked him.

How could he have ever thought that he would be ready for this? He'd been so eager to get here, to get proof that it wasn't Zara. Now here he was, but he was so scared it was her under that sheet that he didn't want Melinda to lift it. He wanted to bury his head in the sand, to live in blissful ignorance forever believing she would come home any day if the alternative was knowing she'd never come home.

"No, I'm not," he admitted. "But, I need this over with."

Melinda nodded and reached for the sheet covering the small body on the slab. Nick felt Fin and Amanda step closer to him. He was glad for their presence now.

Melinda drew back the sheet and everyone cringed at the sight of the young victim so badly beaten beyond recognition. Nick stepped closer to the body, seemingly studying the left elbow of the victim. After a minute, he looked at Melinda and let out a relieved breath, "It's not her."

"You're sure?"

Nick nodded his head vigorously, his eyes wet with unshed tears, emotion apparent in his voice when he spoke. "About a year and a half ago, I bought Zara a real bike and started teaching her to ride. She got really good," he told them, smiling at the memory. "She wanted to go to the park, so we did and we raced the last bit there, her on her bike and me jogging. She hit a bad spot in the sidewalk and the next thing I knew she was on the ground...she was all cut up, especially her elbow. I took her to the hospital and she had to have 5 stitches. Maria never let me hear the end of it because I didn't make her wear elbow and knee pads. She has a scar on her elbow to this day." He pointed to the left elbow of the victim's body. "I could be pretty sure that's not her based on the hair and the hands, but I'm certain because of her elbow. There's no scar there. That's not Zara."

"Thank God," Amanda exhaled, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Nick felt a hand squeeze his shoulder, offering silent support and he turned and nodded his appreciation to Fin.

Melinda put the sheet back over the body, pushed the drawer back inside and closed the door. She turned to Nick. "I was hoping you'd say that," she said. "I hope you find her soon, and if there's anything I can do, don't hesitate to ask."

"Thanks Melinda," Nick whispered, the relief still evident in his voice. He turned away from the ME and walked to the door, Fin and Amanda following closely behind.

It was easy to feel like he'd won the lottery after moments ago considering the possibility that his daughter might be dead. The truth was, the situation was as dire as it had been before they'd gotten the call from the ME's office and that reality was setting in again.

Fin and Amanda seemed to sense this as well. When they were outside of the morgue, he turned to them and started to speak, but was interrupted by Amanda, "Back to work."

He glanced between them, trying to convey how grateful he was to them for everything since his voice was failing him. He cleared his throat and nodded. "Back to work."

* * *

><p>They had been driving for exactly 1 hour and 51 minutes. Specifically, she had been driving for that long, gazing out into the blackness of the night, watching remnants of lightning flash across the sky. He was obviously feeling pretty confident that she wouldn't do anything to jeopardize Zara because he had decided she was driving when they left her apartment seeing as she had a valid drivers license and because her badge would be able to get them through a roadblock or traffic stop if the situation were to arise. Lewis sat in the passenger seat beside her, holding a mostly one-sided conversation with her or himself...she wasn't really sure. She almost wished he'd thrown her in the trunk or the back seat like last time. The availability of his hands and the unavailability of hers presented him with ample opportunity to let his hands roam. And he did, because he knew what it did to her.<p>

"That looks like it hurts," Lewis stated dispassionately, tracing the bruise that she assumed was forming across her cheek where he'd hit her.

She didn't acknowledge his remark and instead sat rigid and attentive to the road as he continued running his fingertips along her cheekbone none to gently.

"How did you get in my apartment," she asked finally, wanting to sidetrack him from his current task.

He held up a key and she turned briefly to stare at it, before returning her eyes to the road.

"That old lady in the apartment next to yours...she caught me trying to break in. I made up a story...told her I was Brian's brother recently home from Afghanistan and I had this big surprise planned for my brother and his girlfriend, but I forgot the key to their apartment," he recounted with pride at his cleverness. "And wouldn't you know, she had a key from the previous owner? It's like it was meant to be." He took the key to her apartment and put it on her thigh, holding it there and examining it looking pleased. He grinned and then added, "I think it was the Afghanistan thing and the scar that convinced her to help me. This," he said pointing to the scar, "might just come in handy. I guess I have you to thank for that."

Lewis leaned forward in his seat.

"Pull over here," he commanded, pointing to a tiny gas station ahead on the right, that appeared to have seen better days.

She turned into the parking lot and followed Lewis' unspoken instructions as he gestured where he wanted her to go. She pulled up to the building and put the car in park.

"I'm going inside for a minute. You be a good girl," he said, squeezing her leg painfully. "Or when we get to Zara, everything I plan to do to you, I'll do to her instead. And I'll make you watch."

She kept her eyes straight ahead, giving no indication that he was hurting her. She nodded briefly and he let go of her leg. "Good," he said, patting her thigh and then exiting the car.

She watched him until he disappeared inside the gas station and then she turned in all directions, looking for something that could help her. People were out of the question. Not that there were any at this time of night. But if there had been, she still couldn't have signaled to them for help. If someone came to her aid, she'd never find Zara and if Lewis caught someone trying to help her, he'd just kill them anyway. Either way, no one else was going to get hurt in his vendetta against her. There'd been too many already.

What she needed was a trail. She didn't know how much further they had to go, but if she could get the squad to this place, they would have a start. But how? She searched the consoles in the front seat for something to write on or something she could drop, but her search turned up nothing. She peered inside the gas station, but she couldn't distinguish Lewis so she continued searching. She eyed her badge sitting in the cup holder and was tempted to open the door and shove it underneath the car. Surely someone would pick it up and when they saw it was an NYPD badge, they'd probably try to track down the cop it belonged to...alerting her squad. But he'd notice it was gone and she wouldn't put Zara in that kind of danger. She reached into one of her coat pockets and felt around. Her hand brushed against a piece of paper and she pulled it out. It was Daniel Wells' address. That wasn't going to help her. Even if she managed to write on it, no one would ever find it with the wind still blowing so furiously. She shoved the piece of paper back in her pocket and then tried the other side. She felt the cold of metal against her fingertips. Keys. She'd put the keys to the unmarked squad car in her pocket. Those were useful because NYPD car keys were tagged with a small laminated label denoting the NYPD address and the vehicle's identification number. If someone found those and attempted to return them, the keys could be traced back to the vehicle she was driving, back to her, back to this location. She took the keys from her pocket and examined them. Yes, they were tagged. She looked through the window of the gas station and saw Lewis at the register, talking to the attendant. It was now or never. She opened the driver side door while appearing upright as if nothing was happening. Once it was cracked she took the keys in her left hand and reached down into the space between the door and the car, doing her best to toss them under the vehicle. She didn't know where exactly they ended up, she wasn't going to look. She checked on Lewis again and he appeared to have finished his business. He turned from the attendant and walked toward the door. She grabbed hold of the driver side door and shut it as quickly and quietly as she could. Lewis returned to the car, climbed in the passenger side and shut his door.

He turned to look at her, "I know what you're doing."

She had a brief moment of panic. What if he saw her drop the keys or heard the car door closing? She swallowed hard and tried to steady her voice. "I'm not doing anything."

He motioned for her to start the car and begin driving again. "I see you eyeing the bag. You're wondering what kind of goodies I got for us this time."

She wasn't, she didn't care. She turned back on the road and felt a sense of relief wash over her. He didn't know what she'd done. And more importantly, her plan had a chance of succeeding.

"I'll show you one thing," he allowed, holding up a finger. He pulled something out of a brown paper bag and held it up for her. She didn't need to turn and look at what he was holding, it was evident in her periphery. The small rectangular shape gave it away. Cigarettes.

Her stomach dropped. She took one of her hands off of the steering wheel and scratched absently at her arm where the faintest of scars were hidden beneath the coat she wore. Her mind frantically scanned through a slide show of horrors that involved heat, pain and the kind of smell you never forget...your own skin burning. Nausea rolled over her in waves and she felt sweat forming at her brow.

Lewis took the cigarettes out of the plastic they were packaged in, and opened the pack. He pulled a lighter from his pocket and then took out a cigarette. Olivia watched closely out of the corner of her eye, aware of every agonizing move he was making. Lewis lit the cigarette and took a drag. He blew the smoke into her face and she turned away from it, but couldn't completely escape the grey cloud. She coughed while waving the smoke from her face. Lewis laughed cruelly. "I've heard second-hand smoke kills," he smirked, his eyes shining with evil intention. "The good news is, I don't think you have to worry about it."

Lewis took another hit from his cigarette and then held it out in front of him, slowly inching toward the exposed skin of the arm that grasped the steering wheel. He held it millimeters from her wrist and she could feel the heat it emitted against her skin. She braced herself for the burn...for pain, but it never came.

"Maybe not while you're driving," he said, still holding the cigarette threateningly over her skin. "I'd hate for us to crash before we got to have our fun. We'll save this for later."

The heat on her wrist disappeared and she watched him put the cigarette back to his lips. He took another draw and looked at her, nodding his head in confirmation. "Later."

* * *

><p>Nick sat at his desk, staring unfocused at the pink and purple dreamcatcher that Zara had made for him, now hanging up on his board. She was still out there. That thought both comforted him and haunted him.<p>

He glanced at Fin and Amanda, both sitting at their desks. It had been too late to go do their interview so they'd stayed at the precinct to continue the search. They were all exhausted...Fin had his head down on his desk and Amanda was fighting heavy eyes as she worked at her computer. He gazed across his desk at the empty chair. He was surprised Olivia wasn't back yet. Amanda had texted her when they'd left the ME's office to let her know that the body wasn't Zara's and they were returning to the precinct to continue working. She never responded as far as he knew. He assumed she must be spending some time with Cassidy while she was at home. It didn't seem like something Liv would do, she typically lived and breathed a case, but maybe they were having issues...maybe they were fighting and she got caught up in the moment. His mind did a double-take. Wait a minute, he thought. He fought to make his sleep deprived brain recall the context he'd heard Cassidy's name in earlier that night. Melinda. She said Tucker and Cassidy were at the crime scene she had worked before she met with them. Cassidy couldn't be home with Liv. Then why isn't she here, he wondered. He pulled out his phone and called her. It rang over and over until it went to her voice mail. He hung up the phone feeling uneasy.

He got up from his desk and ran a hand over his face. He felt like pieces of a puzzle were spinning in circles inside of his brain, so close to lining up and connecting.

"Nick, what's wrong," Amanda asked sounding concerned. Fin lifted his head from his desk and stared as him as well.

"Liv isn't back yet and she's not answering her phone," he told them, still unable to adequately voice what was forming in his brain.

"Nick, she's probably just spending a little time with Cassidy," Amanda assured him.

"No," Nick interjected, a little too loudly. "Don't you remember, Melinda told us Tucker and Cassidy were at the crime scene she went to."

"She probably fell asleep at home," Fin grumbled. "We're all running on fumes here."

"She's not answering her phone," Nick repeated, emphasizing every word. He saw Amanda pick up her phone and begin dialing. He turned away from them, trying to clear his mind so he could make some sense of the jumble in his head. He looked at the whiteboard in front of him and saw Zara's picture from the zoo taped to it. Next to it were three names, but his eyes only saw one...Lewis. He glanced back and forth between the picture and the name. The zoo and Lewis. All of the puzzle pieces in his mind stopped spinning and lined up.

"Yeah, I called, she's not..."

"Lewis," Nick interrupted.

"Lewis," Amanda questioned, getting up out of her chair and walking to him, Fin following behind her.

"She saw him when we were at the zoo, but she thought it was in her head," he mumbled under his breath.

"Ok, Nick, stop for a second. Talk to us," Amanda implored him, gesturing back to Fin.

"Olivia, she saw Lewis when we were at the zoo, but she thought it was in her head," he told them hesitantly, feeling like he was violating his partner's trust.

Fin and Amanda didn't react to this piece of information, but continued to stare at him expectantly for further explanation.

"What if it wasn't? The next day, Zara's taken and my mother's in the hospital." Why hadn't he put this together before? He'd looked at that board a hundred times in the past 24 hours. But he knew why, it wasn't the Lewis they knew. He was direct and reckless. What he was proposing suggested an evolution. That a smarter, more cunning man came out of prison.

"We considered him, but Nick why would Lewis go after Zara - it's not his MO," Amanda asked skeptically, echoing his internal monologue.

"No, It's not. But if it's him it has nothing to do with Zara. It's about getting to Liv," he said desperately. "And she's not answering her phone."

They gaped at him, their minds fighting to process this information while he had already accepted it.

He didn't say another word. He turned from them and began jogging out of the squad room, into the elevator. He heard quick footsteps behind him and Amanda and Fin joined him. They looked around at each other nervously, a sense of déjà vu in the air.

"This can't be happening again, right," Amanda said finally, her voice disbelieving.

Fin shook his head uncertainly while Nick watched the countdown of the floors, feeling like it was a countdown to something much more sinister. He closed his eyes and said a silent prayer. _Please let me be wrong. Please don't let it be William Lewis._

* * *

><p>That's it. Next chapter we'll finally see Zara again for those that have been worried about her. Until next time!<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

Ok here we go. I apologize for the wait, this did take longer than I wanted it to. With that said, I'm going to hop on my soapbox here for a minute, so bear with me. I do the best I can as far as updates go. I work a full time job that regularly requires I travel, work a crazy schedule, weekends, etc.. I play indoor soccer, I'm training for an Ironman and I'm also trying to maintain some semblance of a social life while writing this. I'm kinda busy. And sometimes the story just doesn't flow the way I want it to and I have to spend more time on it. Things happen. I know for the most part everyone gets this, but I read one comment last night that kinda got my hackles up, so to speak, and I had to put that out there. *steps off of soapbox* I like to think of this chapter as prorated. Yes, it took a bit longer than I'd like, but it's also over 1,500 words longer than any of the chapters I've previously written so I think it kinda works out in the end. Um...let's see, what else? Lewis is evil, but he was that way before I got ahold of him so it's not my fault. As always thanks to everyone reviewing, I'm posting this in a huge hurry on the way to a soccer game so hopefully everything is ok with it and hope you enjoy this chapter.

* * *

><p>"IAB says Cassidy is still there conducting an interview with Tucker," Amanda confirmed, as she shoved her phone in her pocket and got out of the car. "Thought it'd be best if I left it there for now. No sense in getting him worried about something we're not sure has happened."<p>

"The car is here," Fin indicated, pointing to the unmarked squad car parked along the street.

Nick eyed it uneasily. He wasn't sure if that made him feel better or worse. He decided on neither. But it did tell them something. Because if the car was here, Olivia should be here. And if she wasn't? Well, that was all he'd been able to think about on the drive there.

They entered the apartment building and went straight for the elevators. Nick smacked the up arrow with the tips of his fingers and shifted impatiently, waiting for it to arrive.

Fin and Amanda were similarly edgy, scanning the lobby while they waited, Fin stopping to point out the security cameras. This only made Nick more anxious, though, and a few seconds later he let out an irritated huff and began walking away. "Forget this, I'm taking the stairs."

Fin and Amanda chased after him as he strode to the stairwell. The three of them jogged up the seven flights of stairs, weary from lack of sleep, but driven forward by fear and adrenaline.

They reached the seventh floor and stepped out into the hallway, eyeing Olivia's apartment door from afar.

They walked purposefully to the end of the hallway, stopping to share a brief glance between them before Fin raised his hand and banged loudly on the apartment door.

"Liv," he called into the apartment. They waited, listening for the sound of movement, or the lock...anything.

Fin put his fist to the door again and knocked louder and more insistently. "Liv!"

But still no answer.

Nick tapped Fin's shoulder and pushed in front of him, drawing his gun. Fin and Amanda drew their weapons and stood behind him.

Nick counted down from three with his fingers and then crashed through the door, gun held out in front of him, Fin and Amanda behind him.

They moved quickly through the apartment, calling out for Olivia, searching room to room for any sign of her.

"She's not here," Nick said, giving voice to the obvious.

"Maybe it's not Lewis," Amanda proposed, re-holstering her gun. "I mean look at this place, it's spotless. We all remember what her apartment looked like last time."

"If Lewis didn't take her, then where is she," Nick asked impatiently.

"There were security cameras at the elevators, we should check the footage," Fin suggested.

Nick and Amanda nodded their agreement and they began walking out of the apartment.

"You guys, look," Amanda said ominously, pointing to the couch.

She reached down and picked up a phone, holding it up for them to see.

"Liv's phone," Amanda verified, examining it. "She's got a couple of calls from Cassidy. And she never got my last text."

Amanda narrowed her eyes. "Wait a minute, there's some kind of timer running up here." She put her finger on the screen where the timer was counting and then looked up at them with wide, concerned eyes.

"It's a recording."

"How long has it been going," Fin asked.

She held it out so they could see the screen. "About three hours," she answered.

"It's recording for a reason," Nick said with trepidation. "We need to know what's on that."

"Hold on." Amanda stopped the recording, then glanced up at Nick and Fin. Nick nodded for her to continue, though he was terrified of what they would hear. "Ok, here we go." She stared at the phone hesitantly and then put her finger down on play.

There was a short period of silence and then they heard Olivia's voice.

_So Zara's alive?_

_That's what I said._

"Lewis." Amanda sank down onto the couch, phone in hand, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Shit," Fin cursed.

Nick moved closer to Amanda, head down, listening intently to Lewis and Olivia continue to exchange words.

It was a dichotomy of good and evil, black and white. Lewis, threatening and cruel. Olivia, strong and defiant. He attacked, she parried. Nick marveled at his partners courage in the face of Lewis' menace. She met him head on, unflinching, brave beyond all reason.

_What about Zara? What's going to happen to her?_ Nick stiffened at the mention of his daughter.

_Nothing. She'll be fine._

_So you'll let her go?_

_Sure. If Zara wants to go. _

Nick shook his head, defeated. He could hear the duplicity in Lewis' voice. He wasn't going to let Zara go. He was vaguely aware that Lewis and Olivia were talking again, but he didn't register what they were saying. He couldn't stop thinking about what was going to happen to his daughter. What would Lewis do with her once he had Olivia? He wouldn't need Zara anymore. The thought was horrifying.

A loud, unmistakable crack echoed through the phone, interrupting Nick's unvoiced concerns. His head snapped up in surprise. He glanced at the phone and then to Fin and Amanda who had their eyes closed, distress etched into their faces. He'd hit her. Nick's hands balled into fists at his sides.

_My rules._ Nick heard Lewis whisper, his voice as sharp as a razor. _You don't get to say no, remember?_

There was a pause, and then Lewis' voice again.

_I'm sorry, I didn't hear you._

_Yes._

_Good._

It was quiet once more until Olivia's muffled whimper invaded the silence. The strangled noise, her heaving breath seconds later...they didn't need a picture. It was clear what Lewis had done. Nick groaned, an anguished, almost inhuman sound. He interlocked his fingers behind his head and inclined at the waist, looking as if he would be sick. He felt Fin and Amanda's eyes on him and he met their troubled gazes, noting they appeared equally as ill as he felt.

"Son of a bitch," Fin muttered. His fist in hand, cracking his knuckles in frustration.

"Lord," Amanda exhaled at the same time as Fin, staring in disgust at the phone before putting her head in her free hand.

Nick was almost relieved when Lewis spoke again. _Time to go._ Almost.

The sound of a door closing rang through the phone and Amanda stopped the recording. They were quiet for a minute, processing everything they'd heard.

"Nick, they're going to be ok," Amanda said, trying to reassure him.

"You sure about that," he asked despondently, a far away look in his eyes, "because I'm not."

"Liv will take care of Zara," Fin stated somberly.

"Yeah, I know she will," he agreed, all too aware of the hidden 'but' in Fin's statement. He knew Olivia would do everything she could to help his daughter, even to her own detriment. She'd already proved that by going with Lewis. But Lewis knew that, too. Protecting Zara was going to put Olivia at a disadvantage that she couldn't afford. How could she protect herself if Lewis had Zara to threaten and hang over her head. He decided to vocalize what Fin hadn't. "But who's going to take care of her?"

Fin shook his head sadly. "She's tough, she'll hold on."

Nick recalled the image of Olivia as he'd first found her in the beach house...bloody, beaten, tortured. Torture. People used the word to describe the most meaningless things. A test was torture, a speech, a movie. It took the power away from the word, rendered it casual. But it was anything but casual. He'd seen what had been inflicited on Olivia up close. Burns, cuts, bruises marring every inch of her exposed skin. Holes and slashes in her shirt. Her instinctive flinch away from contact, expecting more pain. Lewis had done that to her...mercilessly, gleefully. For a second, he considered that Lewis might be torturing her now. He could see her in his mind, tied to a chair, an indistinguishable metal object burning yellow and orange hovering just above her skin, her face twisted in agony. He put a hand over his mouth, the imagery so real to him he thought he might scream for her. He closed his eyes and shook the image from his mind. There would be no sanity left within him if he allowed himself to go to those places.

"We'll find him," Fin promised.

Nick pictured his mom laying in a hospital bed, comatose, Olivia and a million horrors that awaited her, and he thought about Zara...ripped away from him, scared, alone. Lewis had hurt too many people, there was only one way for this to end. He glanced back and forth between Amanda and Fin and found a similar resolve in their eyes. "He's not walking away this time," Nick vowed. "He'll never make it back to a prison cell."

* * *

><p>It had been two hours since their stop at the gas station. She knew they were finally getting close because Lewis was leaning forward in the passenger seat, searching the dark for something, though she wasn't sure what. She watched him scan the landscape from the corner of her eye, her hands grasping the steering wheel tightly, knuckles forming bloodless, distinct ridges, her fingers aching from the tension of her grip. Dread had steadily been building within her during the drive. It rocked within her like the ocean, ebbing a little and then crashing back into her more powerful and sustained than before. She could no longer separate herself from it. The emotion had consumed her fully, leaving no corner of her being untouched. She sat there, a living, breathing embodiment of it. She wondered if it even seeped from her pores, because she was sure he sensed it, relished it. And every so often he would turn to her, fixing her with cold eyes, his mouth turning up into a cruel smile, that mocking, inhuman smile that haunted her, and it took everything she had to keep her foot on the gas pedal, driving herself further toward torment and suffering. But the haze of fear that enveloped her was not completely opaque and she could still see through it to the reason she was doing this. Zara. It was that single, solitary thought that continued to fortify her resolve. So she kept driving, her face a stony, emotionless mask, but her insides a relentless tempest, churning uncontrollably.<p>

"Almost there," Lewis told her excitedly.

A few seconds later he held up his hand, "Slow down."

She slowed the car to a crawl, searching for a house, a building, whatever godforsaken place he was taking her. But it was so dark, she couldn't make out anything except trees on both sides of the road. Even those were concealed in darkness so the outline against the sky was the only clear thing about them.

"Turn here," he commanded, pointing across her to the left.

"There's no where to turn," she argued.

"Just do it," he demanded, indicating where he wanted her to go.

She did, not entirely sure she wasn't about to drive them into a few trees, but then the SUV broke through leaves and she realized there was a long, narrow path visible in the headlights.

"Keep following the path. We have a little ways to go."

They crept farther into the forest. Olivia examining the surrounding shadow for some sign of life, but for the headlights, they were completely enveloped in black. She considered the possibility that there was nothing at the end of this. Maybe he planned to kill her and bury her body out here. What else could it be, she wondered. There's nothing out here. She felt a surge of panic at this. And the further they traveled in, the more resigned she became to this fate until Lewis' voice broke the silence.

"Home sweet home," he sang, gesturing to a structure in the distance. "Isn't it great?"

Olivia squinted into the dark, barely able to discern a small cabin against the trees. And, while it wasn't the immediate death she had convinced herself was coming, it felt a lot like it. No, she thought. This was definitely not great. He certainly hadn't lied about one thing, there was a good chance no one was going to find them here. The cabin was remote, well concealed...she doubted there were going to be any visitors at this place. How many people even knew it was there? Probably not many, she answered herself. No one to see, no one to hear...completely isolated. She wanted to put her head down on the steering wheel and cry for the hopelessness she felt at the situation. But what good would that do?

"What is this place," Olivia asked grudgingly, loath to converse with him, but desperately seeking awareness of her surroundings.

He glanced at her and then back to the small cabin in front of them. "It belongs to my former cell mate. Archer. He told me all about it while we were in prison and when I escaped, I just knew I had to come here."

Lewis turned to her and grinned. His excitement was palpable. "It's...well, you'll see when we get inside."

She put the car in park and shut it off. He pulled the gun out of his waistband and motioned to the driver side door. "Let's go."

She opened the car door, stepped outside of the vehicle and closed it. He approached her, gun in hand, silver metal handcuffs, her handcuffs, glinting in the other.

"Turn around," he ordered, waving his gun.

"You don't need to do that," Olivia assured him, holding her hands up in surrender.

"Oh, but I do," he told her, grasping her arm and spinning her so her back was to him. He put the gun against the base of her skull. "Don't move." She heard jingling and then he yanked her right arm back and she felt cold, hard metal encircle her wrist. He grabbed her left wrist and yanked it back as well, moving the gun away from her head so he could use his other hand to secure her left wrist and lock the cuffs tightly. "Something my cell mate taught me. Learn from your mistakes. And I did. I won't underestimate you again." He spun her back around so she was facing him, her wrists handcuffed behind her back.

She stared past him.

"Awww, don't be mad." He spoke to her as if she was a petulant child, grasping her chin in one hand, forcing her to meet his eyes. "When we get inside and get you all situated, you can have your hands back."

Olivia felt his grip on her chin loosen and she jerked her face away from him.

He watched her eyes flit around the area, taking in her surroundings. "If you're thinking about screaming...go ahead," he laughed. "No one's going to hear you."

She was sure that was true, but a cry for help wasn't far from her lips nonetheless.

"Walk," he ordered, pushing her toward the cabin, the gun in her back.

"You think you'll get away with this, but you won't," she told him, trudging forward, more confidence in the promise than she felt. "My squad will find us."

"You think so, huh," Lewis asked, amused. "That's a lot of trust in a squad that had four days to find you before, and couldn't." He stopped abruptly and grabbed her arm, turning her so she faced him. "See, I think you know they were never going to find you. And if you hadn't broken free from that bed, I would've done you until you begged me to kill you and when there was nothing left to take from you, then I would've killed you." He put the gun to her cheek. She closed her eyes at the feel of the cold metal against her face. "Look around you, Olivia," he taunted, turning her head with the gun. "If they couldn't find you in the city, they're not going to find you here."

"You're wrong," she said defiantly. "They will."

Lewis chuckled at this. "You keep telling yourself that, sweetheart." He grasped her arm and spun her again.

"Come on, Zara's waiting." He put his hand on her back and shoved her roughly.

Olivia stumbled forward, unable to stop her momentum, and she fell to the ground hard, her head and left shoulder colliding with the earth.

"Oops," she heard Lewis say from above her. "I guess I don't know my own strength." She rolled onto her side, glaring at him and she used her left arm to push herself up. She cried out in agony as a shooting pain ripped through her shoulder.

"Uh oh," Lewis sneered, sadistic glee twisting his features. "Looks like you've got a problem."

"I'm fine," she panted. She took a minute to catch her breath, considering shifting her position so she could use her other arm to push herself up. But that would only confirm her vulnerability and if it was that or pain, she'd take the pain. She put her left elbow down on the ground and pushed herself up to her knees, eyes squeezed shut, lips closed tight, an impentrable barrier turning away any further vocalizations of her discomfort.

"Want some help," Lewis asked in a low, dangerous voice, reaching for her injured left arm.

She pulled away and quickly pushed up from her knees to a standing position. "I'm fine," she repeated.

He reached his hand out to her and brushed his fingers along her forehead, pulling them away and holding them up for her to see. "You're bleeding," he told her, showing her his blood stained fingertips.

"Like you care," she muttered.

"Oh, I don't. But I like it when you bleed." Olivia recoiled in disgust.

"Move it," he commanded, prodding her with the gun. She walked the last few feet to the cabin and stopped at the door. Lewis reached into his jeans and pulled out a key. He placed it in the lock and turned, pushing the door open. He waved her in with the gun and she stepped into the dark room. Lewis followed behind her, closing the door. Olivia could hear his steps around the room, but was unable to discern exactly where he was. Then there was a small flash of light and she saw him holding a candle.

"Archer's a smart guy. He kept this place off the grid so no one really knows about it." He went to the other side of the room and lit another candle. "The only downside to that is no electricity...and the well water tastes awful," he added.

Olivia scanned the dimly lit room for Zara. It was small so it didn't take long. She noted a fireplace, a sofa, a small kitchen area, but she didn't see Zara.

"Where is she," Olivia demanded.

"You'll see," he promised. "First, we're going to need this." He held up a latern. It reminded her of camping.

"Found a couple of these at a house I visited not far from here. Battery operated. Kinda perfect."

Lewis went to the rug in front of the fireplace and pulled it up. Olivia observed in horror as a small square door in the floor was revealed. Lewis lifted the door. "She's down there," he told her, pointing to the black hole below.

Olivia wondered for the hundreth time that night if this was a trick. Maybe her gut was wrong on this one. Maybe this was just a clever ruse that she had fallen for and Zara wasn't there. Maybe she never was. But it was too late for reservations now. She'd made her decision back in the apartment and there was no turning back.

"Zara," she called down hopefully.

She listened for an answer, but there was no reply.

"She's not answering," she said, alarmed.

Lewis gave a disinterested shrug. "She must be asleep. Those pills I gave her really knocked her out."

Olivia frowned at this. She recalled him telling her that Zara was sick.

"I'm going to her," she told him.

That's the idea," he said, motioning for her to climb down the ladder.

"My hands," she inquired, a cross between a statement and a question.

Lewis shook his head. "Oh no, the cuffs stay on."

Olivia didn't bother arguing, she didn't want to waste time. She dropped to one knee, then another and leaned to her left so she was seated on the ground. She shifted her legs out from under herself, swinging them forward so they were hanging into the hole in the floor and then scooted the last few inches so she was in line with the ladder. She couldn't make out anything below her, and it was cold she realized as she felt cool air against her legs. The thought of Zara down there, alone, for hours, made her heart break.

It wasn't a very long way down, but it was awkward with her hands cuffed behind her back. The ladder was slightly inclined and she didn't want to descend facing it for fear of falling backwards, so instead she went down facing out, leaning back into the ladder to keep steady. When she made it to the bottom, she glanced up at Lewis and then began searching for Zara.

"Zara," she murmured into the darkness. "Zara, it's Olivia."

Olivia continued her exploration of the area until she ran into the wall.

She inhaled sharply when her elbow hit the solid boundary of the room, jostling her shoulder. She stopped so her back was to the wall, taking a minute to compose herself and then she followed the perimeter of the room. A few seconds later she tripped over something laying on the ground. It was maybe 6 inches high and felt relatively soft. A mattress, she thought as she probed it with her foot. She heard the sound of Lewis on the ladder and then bright yellow light illuminated the room. Olivia looked around and felt her stomach drop. She'd imagined the space as a basement or maybe a cellar. But those words suggested a purpose beyond concealment and restraint. And from what she could see, that was the sole purpose of this place. It was a dungeon. Concrete walls, concrete floor...clearly not designed for any kind of comfort. There was nothing remotely hospitable about it except a few candles she assumed were used for light. There was a toilet to her side and she noticed a length of chain not far away that was secured into the floor.

"Zara," she exhaled in relief, taking in the sight of the sleeping child on the mattress. Olivia knelt down by her, watching for the rise and fall of her chest. She was rewarded with movement and her mouth turned up into a slight smile. Olivia scanned the little girl's body for injuries or signs of mistreatment, but she appeared to be unharmed. She turned to face Lewis, who stood in the middle of the room where the ladder reached up to the main level of the house. He was examining the wood above for something, light in hand, and then he reached the light up above his head and hung it.

"Just take these off," Olivia insisted, turning to indicate the handcuffs. "Where am I going to go? I need to make sure she's ok."

"You don't tell me what to do," he growled, walking swiftly toward her.

She watched him bear down on her, the same furious look on his face as earlier when he'd backhanded her. She shuffled her feet back, trying to create more distance but he was on her in a second.

Lewis put a hand around her neck and backed her into the wall, squeezing her throat until she could no longer breathe. He held her like that for what was probably seconds, but felt like hours, his hand tight against her neck, watching her struggle to take in air.

"Stay," he ordered her, finally releasing his grip on her.

She bent over, coughing and gasping for air.

He reached down to the floor and picked up the chain she'd noted earlier. It wasn't the big, thick chain she was accustomed to seeing, but it looked strong enough. He pulled up her pant leg and wrapped it around her left ankle once, twice and then when he was satisfied it was tight, he put a padlock through the end of the chain and the length running to the floor so it was secure.

He stepped back and admired his handy work. "See? What did I tell you, concrete and chains."

Olivia couldn't resist pulling against her new restraint, testing the resolve of the chain she was attached to. It dug painfully into her ankle.

"You've got to give it to Archer," he said, grabbing her arm, pulling her to him. "This place is perfect. You can even use the bathroom on your own this time. Not that I minded helping you with that." He smiled smugly and then winked at her.

Olivia tried not to think about that particular humiliation and instead busied herself with examining the chain where it attached to the floor, searching for any weakness.

"I'm a man of my word. I said you'd get your hands back."

He unlocked the handcuffs on her wrists and she shook her arms out in relief. She went to where Zara was laid out on the mattress and kneeled down beside her, putting a gentle hand to her forehead.

"Zara," Olivia said softly, shaking her shoulder lightly. After a few rounds of this, Zara began to stir.

"There we go," Olivia said with relief.

Zara cracked her eyes. "Olivia," she asked sleepily.

"Yeah, I'm here. How do you feel sweetie?"

"Sick," she whimpered.

"Ok, Zara have you had anything to eat or drink today?"

Zara shook her head.

She turned back to Lewis. "She needs water...and food," she added, careful not to make it sound like an order.

"I might be able to do that," he told her, noncommittally. He turned away and climbed the ladder.

Zara sat up, watching Lewis leave, and then looked up at Olivia. "He's a bad guy." It was a statement more than it was a question. Olivia nodded her head in agreement.

"Did he hurt you?"

Zara shook her head in reply.

"Is my abuela dead," she asked, her eyes on the ground.

"No," Olivia assured her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "She's in the hospital and the doctors are doing everything they can for her."

Zara raised her head, a little brighter at this news. "Why did he take me?"

Olivia sighed guiltily. "He took you because he knew if he had you, I would come here with him."

Zara considered this for a second, her eyes raking over Olivia's bruised face, then to the chain around her ankle. "Does he want to hurt you?"

Olivia looked away from Zara, unsure of how to answer her question, deciding on a general truth. "He's a very bad man. He wants to hurt everyone."

"Will he hurt me," Zara whispered fearfully.

Olivia turned to her, meeting her frightened eyes. "No, he won't. I promise you, I will not let him hurt you."

"Olivia, is my dad going to find us?"

"Yeah sweetie, he will," Olivia confirmed. "We've just got to hold on until he gets here."

* * *

><p>Nick sat at his desk, his head in his hands, staring at the picture on his computer screen with a mixture of anger and sadness. It was a still image from the security footage they'd taken from Olivia's building. They were mid stride, Lewis with his arm around Olivia's waist, Olivia head turned to the camera, eyes pleading for help. She knew they'd see it and she was asking them to come find her. Nick exhaled loudly, they weren't doing a very good job of that so far. They didn't know much at this point, the only thing they did know was how Lewis got into her apartment. The racket they'd created breaking in and the subsequent police presence had piqued the curiosity of the neighbors. When they'd started showing a photo of Lewis and the lady next door, Mrs. Stamford, had identified him as Brian's brother, it didn't take long to for them to figure out the rest. Mrs. Stamford was devastated when she learned the truth. But he wasn't feeling sorry for her. What kind of person hands a perfect stranger a key to another person's apartment? Besides, she didn't need his sympathy. She was fine. The only people who needed anything from him right now were Olivia and Zara. He wasn't sure who he was more scared for...Zara because she was dispensable to Lewis or Olivia because she was the target of his cruelty. Nick picked up his phone and navigated to the copy of the recording that he'd sent to himself. He wasn't sure why he was compelled to listen to it again and again, but he was and he did.<p>

Nick started the recording, focusing on the conversation he knew by heart now. He saw movement in his periphery, Fin and Amanda were walking back into the squad room...with Cassidy. He supposed that wasn't surprising. How could he stay away at a time like this? Maria had the same inclination when he'd called to tell her about Lewis, but he'd talked her out of that, promising to call as soon as he knew anything and even when he knew nothing.

"Nick," Cassidy said tersely.

"Cassidy," Nick reciprocated.

"Hey Brian," Cragen called somberly, as he came out of his office, approaching them.

"Anything," the Captain asked, looking expectantly at Fin and Amanda. They'd gone to speak with Dr. Cole, the prison doctor who'd helped Lewis escape the prison ward at the hospital. It seemed like the best place to start. If she'd helped him escape, maybe she was still helping him, they'd reasoned.

"No," Amanda said, shaking her head. "My gut says she's not helping him. She was really shaken when we told her he'd kidnapped Zara and Olivia. Lewis did what he does best, he saw a vulnerability in her and took advantage of it."

"Yeah," Fin added, "She had a step-brother that died in prison 5 years ago, so she's already sympathetic to prisoners. That's why she chose to work at the prison. But Lewis, he manipulated her, told her another prisoner was going to kill him...maybe it reminded her too much of her brother."

Nick sighed. It wasn't what he wanted to hear. They were silent and he realized the recording of Olivia and Lewis was still emanating from his phone.

"That's it," Brian asked, pointing to Nick's phone.

They all nodded their heads soberly.

"Start it over."

"Cassidy, man, you don't want to listen to that," Fin told him. "It'll drive you crazy."

Brian braced his hands against Nick's desk, put his head down and lifted it back up to meet their eyes. "I'm already going crazy thinking of her out there, with him. I need to hear it."

Nick offered a slight incline of his head. Who was he to say no? He, who had already listened to the thing 4 times. Nick understood the instinct to listen to it. The ability to hear her voice, to know for even a second what was happening to her as much as it may hurt, it was comforting in some strange way.

Nick started the recording over and set his phone down on the desk. Cassidy put his head down, concentrating on the conversation. He squeezed his eyes shut at the worst of it and by the time it had ended, his hands were gripping the desk so tightly, his knuckles were ghostly white.

"Go back to the beginning," Brian demanded.

"Cassidy, don't do this to yourself," Amanda said sympathetically.

Brian waved her off. "No, there's something I want to hear again. Something he said."

Nick restarted the recording again, listening intently.

"There," Cassidy exclaimed, snapping his fingers, "who is the he Lewis mentions?"

"That's the problem, we don't know," Fin explained.

"Yeah, he doesn't have any family or friends that we know of," Amanda added, "but it could be anybody he's met over the years."

"Maybe not," Cassidy disagreed, holding up a finger. "Follow my logic here. Lewis is a loner - no family, no friends, he's got no one. Lewis said he made sure of that...like whoever he's talking about built this place that Olivia won't escape from. It sounds criminal..."

"Yes," Nick interjected, slapping a hand on his desk. "Someone he met in prison."

"Right," Cassidy agreed, "and I think you start with the person he spent the most time with..."

"His cell mate," Amanda added, finishing his sentence.

Nick looked to the Captain, an unspoken question in the air. "Go," he told them, waving them on with his hand, "I'll make the necessary calls."

* * *

><p>Olivia was startled out of sleep by a thump above, her heart racing wildly from the injection of adrenaline to her system. She laid there for a moment, her heart beat slowly returning to it's normal rhythm, her sleep addled brain trying to figure out why it was so dark and why this didn't feel like her bed. Then everything came rushing back to her - Zara, Lewis, this prison she was in. She buried her face in her hands. "No," she mumbled quietly into her hands, her voice sorrowful. She sat up and brought her knees into her chest, listening to Lewis' movement above and Zara's breathing to her side.<p>

It was unnerving listening to his footsteps on the floor, his clattering about the house, while she sat in this black hole waiting, knowing he was coming back. She was surprised he'd left them alone for so long. He'd brought Zara water and a granola bar and then he'd left, turning the light out, leaving them with nothing but their exhaustion. Eventually, no matter how hard she'd fought it, the darkness and quiet had lulled her to sleep. She wondered how much time had passed. _Not enough_.

She heard a loud screech, saw a small patch of light and then heard footsteps on the ladder.

Zara shifted next to her, woken by the sound of the door opening. Olivia stood up, steeling herself for another inevitable confrontation.

A few seconds later, bright yellow light invaded the room and he was there, watching her, a smug look on his face.

"How are my guests?"

"Where were you," she asked. The question slipped from her lips before she realized what she was saying.

"Stockholm Syndrome already, Olivia," he bantered. "That's sweet."

She rolled her eyes at the insanity of his suggestion.

"So...where should we start," Lewis asked, eyeing the mattress.

"Let Zara go," she answered flatly.

"That wasn't really what I had in mind." Lewis folded his arms across his chest. "Besides, why would I do that?"

"You said you would," she reminded him.

"Yeah, but I lie," he pointed out with a shrug.

"You don't need her anymore." She lifted the chain that was attached to her leg. "I'm not going anywhere. Just let her go."

He considered this for a minute, then said simply, "Ok."

She wasn't sure she'd heard him right. "Ok," she asked, bewildered.

"Yeah, sure." He approached Zara and stood over her. "Come on let's go," he said, motioning for her to stand up.

Zara stood, looking to Olivia for reassurance. Olivia met Zara's frightened eyes and put a hand across her body in both a preventative and protective gesture.

"Wait," Olivia said, "where are you taking her?"

Lewis looked perplexed, "Oh I'm not taking her anywhere. You want me to let her go and I will. I'm going to walk her to the front door and I'm going to let her go." He fixed Zara with an icy stare. "What do you think Zara, you up for a long walk in the dark, alone?"

Zara shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. She turned to Olivia, terrified. "No, please don't make me go," she cried, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I'm scared, I don't want to be alone. Please Olivia."

Olivia knelt in front of Zara and hugged her, wincing as she brought her arms up. She stroked Zara's hair soothingly and whispered to her, "It's ok, sweetie. You're not going to be alone."

Olivia lowered Zara back to the ground so she was sitting on the floor and ran a hand through her hair again before standing up to face Lewis.

"You can't do that. She needs to go to a hospital," Olivia told him seriously.

Lewis scoffed at this. "Yeah, sure I'll take her to the hospital. And after that, I'll drive to the nearest police station, walk in with my hands up and surrender," he said sardonically. "Not going to happen. She's fine. So she either walks out the door now or she stays here."

"Why are you doing this," she implored, unable to contain the desolation in her voice. "You've got me. You don't need her."

She was desperate to get Zara away from him and back to her family. She'd made a promise to her that she wouldn't let Lewis hurt her and the only way she could guarantee that was to get Zara out of there...whatever it took.

_I'll do anything._

_Yes you will._

Olivia heard the words clearly in her head, the memory of that day rushing back with them. She squeezed her eyes shut against the onslaught and then opened them again, certain she would find herself in a room with an iron frame bed. But when she opened her eyes she was still surrounded by concrete...a different kind of hell. She thought she knew what he wanted to hear and she told herself she could say it if it would get Zara back to Nick.

"Please just let her go and I'll do anything you want," she said, steady, calm, but not desperate. She wouldn't give him desperate this time.

Lewis inhaled deeply and grinned at her. "Oh Olivia," he sighed, stepping into her so that his mouth was at her ear, warm breath expelled against her neck. "I know you will," he whispered. "And I don't even have to let her go." He took a step back. "All I have to do is point this," he held up her glock, "at her." He pointed the gun at Zara, seated on the floor, her eyes wide with fear staring at the gun in his hand.

"Don't," Olivia exclaimed, moving so she was in front of the weapon.

"See? Now why would I give that up?"

Olivia kept her eyes on the glock, her hands in front of her.

"Kinda reminds me of Simon says," Lewis joked, dropping the gun to his side. "Did you play that when you were a kid?"

Olivia watched him cautiously, nodding her head slowly.

"Me too. Why don't we play now? I'll be Simon," he said, his hand on his chest. He took a step to the side so he could see Zara.

"Olivia, you'll go first. Ok, Simon says..." He paused and scanned the room for dramatic effect, "Simon says...get on the mattress." He pointed the gun at Zara, but he was staring intently at her, the timbre of his voice suddenly hard and serious.

It never occurred to her to play his game. All she could think about was the gun aimed at Zara. With one quick sidestep she was in front of Zara again, shielding her from the gun.

Lewis tilted his head in mock confusion. "I don't think you understand the rules." His hand shot out from his side, grabbing hold of her left shoulder and squeezing forcefully. She cried out in pain and dropped to the ground, holding her shoulder. Olivia heard Zara call out to her, terrified. Unshed tears blurred her vision. She quickly wiped at them and stood, turning to Lewis.

Zara was upright now and Lewis was beside her, no space between them.

"I'm ok, Zara. It's going to be ok," Olivia reassured her. "You remember what I promised you, right?"

Zara nodded her head tentatively, eyes darting from Olivia to Lewis.

He put his free hand on Zara's head. "Yeah Zara, don't worry. Everything will be fine as long as Olivia plays nice."

"Now, why don't we try this again," Lewis suggested, placing the gun against Zara's back. "Simon says get on the mattress, Olivia."

* * *

><p>So next chapter I think I'm actually going to write the Archer stuff because he's pretty evil and it could be fun. We'll see. As far as the rest of it...we'll see what the story says.<p> 


	8. Chapter 8

Oy I have so much to apologize for...the lateness of this update, the absolute horror show that is this chapter. Seriously, it's not pretty. It might make you wish I never updated. And I'm not as happy with it as I'd like to be, but I don't think there's much else I can do for it at this point. A little background on this story. The original idea for the fic was more of a hostage situation. Lewis taking Zara hostage and getting Olivia to come to/go with him to save Zara...thus the switch part of the story title. The problem was what I had planned was going to put Lewis out of character. Seems difficult right? How can a psycho be out of character? Easy. He does something human. I was going to have him let Zara go...which makes no sense. If Lewis was smart enough to understand he could use Zara to get to Olivia, why would he let that weapon go? And so, the story changed while I was writing it. When the story changed, that put Olivia in a much worse situation than she originally would've been in, in the other version. Suddenly, it's a no-win situation. This is my long-winded way of explaining why this chapter ends the way it does. I've been dreading writing this since I realized I had to write it. If last chapter seemed strange to you, it's because I included a lot of filler I didn't have to write, but did to put off writing what I wrote in this chapter. It was just hard to do. But as much as it killed me to write it, I think it's the only way this could've gone. Olivia is in a no-win situation, Lewis is smarter and not going to make the same mistake twice and, though the squad got to play with the smart stick, they're still nowhere near finding them right now. Sure I could come up with some crazy stuff to circumvent a particular plot point, but it's important to me that the story make sense and that the characters be in character, so I won't do that. So with all of that said...if you're disappointed, sad, pissed about this. I understand.

Warning: I don't think there's anything too incredibly graphic in here, but be aware that there is torture and...rape.

* * *

><p>Olivia stared at Lewis, then at Zara and finally at the gun pressed into Zara's back. She felt like a caged animal, hopelessly trapped, acutely aware of every sound, every flinch, every sensation within herself...she heard Zara's sharp intake of breath at the feel of the gun in her back, she felt the cool, heaviness of the metal chain around her own ankle, the surge of adrenaline raging through her veins. Fight or flight. Except neither of those were an option. Flight wasn't, not with the chain around her leg. She'd tugged on it enough to know the only thing she'd achieve from continued pulling would be further cutting of the skin around her ankle. So no flight. Fight didn't seem like a viable recourse either. There was the chain around her ankle which would make it difficult, though she might give it a try if it was just her. But it wasn't. Zara was feet from her with a gun to her back and there was only one thing she could do to protect her. She had to give in. She had to play this twisted game knowing exactly where it was going. She turned her head so she could see the mattress. She'd laid there minutes ago, slept on it, so weary and exhausted she'd welcomed the small bit of comfort and respite from the cold, hard concrete. Ironic that now she stood firmly planted on the concrete floor and would've given anything to stay there. She felt sick, her stomach plummeting so far that she thought it couldn't possibly be within her body anymore. She turned her head back to Lewis and Zara.<p>

"Come on Olivia," Lewis taunted. "You don't want to lose this game."

Olivia put her hands in front of her, placating, surrendering...she wasn't sure. "You don't want to do this," she said in shaky voice. Even to her it sounded stupid, but she'd used the phrase so many times in negotiating with perps, that it fell from her lips instinctively.

"I'm pretty sure I do. Last chance," he sneered.

His words hung in the air around her, ringing in her ears long after he'd said them. She knew he meant it. If she didn't move now, Zara would pay for it and she wasn't going to let that happen. Olivia turned and slowly moved to the mattress, her mind frantically searching for a way out. But at the same time a voice within confirmed what she already knew...there was no way out. Not like this. Not while she was restrained, up against a gun and the threat of violence against a child. The deck was stacked, the game rigged.

She stopped when she was standing on the mattress, holding her hands out, indicating that she'd done what he wanted.

"Listen, you want to hurt me, then hurt me," she told him. "But don't do this to Zara. She's a child...she can't see this. It'll scar her, she'll never be the same." She was pleading now, both for Zara and herself, because whatever he did to her would be all the worse if Zara was forced to witness it.

Lewis lowered the gun to his side and started toward her slowly. Olivia met Zara's uncertain eyes and she tried to offer her some voiceless reassurance, but after having a gun pointed at her, whatever she managed, given her own precarious position, was insufficient. Lewis continued to inch closer to her, closing the distance between them. "We all have scars eventually. I have scars," he pointed to the scar around his eye. "You have scars." He stopped in front of her and reached out to touch the collar of the coat she still wore.

"Take it off," he demanded in the domineering tone that she'd grown so accustomed to hearing. But she hesitated at this command, the urge to oppose him so strong that she couldn't make herself obey even when she knew she'd lose. Lewis fingered the zipper of her coat and then pulled it down, revealing her forest green shirt beneath it.

"I said take it off," Lewis insisted. He turned just enough so she could see his eyes glance back at Zara, the threat implicit. He turned back to her and offered a small raise of his shoulders. Yes, she got the message. It occurred to her that he could've taken if off of her by force, but he seemed to derive some great pleasure from coercing her cooperation. Like a new toy he was testing out...what could it do, how far could he push it?

Olivia shrugged her right arm out of the coat and then gently slid her other arm from it. She tossed it to the ground and lifted her eyes to meet his.

Lewis stepped forward and grabbed the neckline of her shirt, pulling it down and away from her chest so he could examine it. He leered at the exposed flesh and then glanced up at her face, savoring her distress at his invasion. His eyes dropped back down to her chest and he used his fingers to trace over faint scars that remained from their last encounter. Olivia turned her head to the side and squeezed her eyes shut. It took every ounce of self restraint that she possessed to resist pushing his hand away from her. But hadn't she already tried that once and hadn't that ended with her face aching? She reasoned now it could only end worse because she might not be the one punished for her resistance.

"Look at this," he said with a measure of disappointment, "these seem to have healed pretty well." He frowned after he spoke the words. "That's a shame."

She felt him grab her arm and found him examining it for marks. She turned her head away again, staring at the small porous holes in the concrete wall, wishing they were bigger and she could climb into one, hide herself away from his eyes, escape the feel of his skin on hers.

"I think I know what we should do first." He dropped her arm and pulled handcuffs from his waistband.

"Turn around," he ordered.

"What are you doing," she asked, ignoring his command. Lewis spun her so she was facing the wall, her back to him. He grabbed her hands and locked them in the cuffs behind her back.

"You and I are going upstairs." He reached down, key in hand, and unlocked the padlock holding the chain around her ankle.

"What about Zara," Olivia asked him.

"She stays down here," he told her, standing to full height again and grabbing hold of her elbow. He offered a sly smile and pulled her towards the ladder. "In case you were thinking about trying anything. Besides, I don't think you're going to want her up there."

Judging by the manical glee on his face, she thought that was true. A shiver made it's way through her body and she felt certain it had nothing to do with the cold.

He pulled her to the ladder, released his hold on her and then climbed it quickly. When he was at the top he took the gun out of his waistband. "Let's go."

Olivia looked back at Zara, who seemed to be frozen in place, too scared and confused to do anything but stand in the spot where he'd left her.

"Zara, I have to go up there, but I promise you I'll be back. Everything's going to be ok."

She waited for a response, but Zara could only offer a small nod in acknowledgement.

Olivia started the awkward climb with her hands behind her back, thankful for the incline of the ladder. When she reached the final steps, Lewis grabbed her arm and hauled her up the rest of the way.

He guided her to the sofa in front of the fireplace and shoved her down on it. She quickly righted herself so she was sitting up, scanning her surroundings for some sign of what he had planned for her. Lewis walked away, out of sight, and she tried to twist her body so she could see what he was doing.

"Archer and I have a lot in common, but we have different styles. He prefers knives. You should see how many he has here. We'll get around to those later." He paused, reveling in the imagery and the fear he was conjuring for her. "Now me, I prefer the fire. But you already knew that, didn't you?" He stopped what he was doing and stared pointedly at her, a liquor bottle in his hand. She ignored his taunt and instead her eyes were drawn to the bottle.

He noticed this and held it up in recognition. "I'd offer you some, but the house I broke into wasn't well stocked. And you weren't carrying much cash, so..."

He put the bottle to his lips and drank from it.

Olivia turned away from him, relieved to be spared that part of his sick game. Her gaze was drawn to the flames dancing in the fireplace. It was warm here, much warmer than the cold concrete prison she'd been trapped in for hours. The heat, the soft glow of light given off from the burning embers...it should've been inviting. Anywhere but here, with him, it would've been. But, her situation being what it was, the orange and yellow flames burning brightly unnerved her and she would've gladly gone back to the cold and the dark to escape this weapon that she was sure he intended to wield against her.

She was startled out of her trance-like state by his appearance at her side and the sound of his voice close to her ear. "Feeling a little pyrophobic, Olivia?"

She saw him in her periphery, staring at her while she watched the fire. She turned to meet his gaze and a knowing smile spread across his features.

"You know they say the best way to get over your fears is to face them."

He stood and reached into his pocket, pulling a familiar rectangular box from it. The cigarettes. He pulled one from the pack, put it to his lips and lit it.

_Later._

She remembered the promise he'd made in the car. Of the heat on her wrist, so close to burning into her skin. Was that where this was going? Was this how the torture began? She eyed him cautiously as he puffed on the cigarette and blew out the smoke. He studied her reaction to each drag he took just as closely, aware she was anxiously watching his every move. Finally, when he was holding a tiny stub in his fingers, he paused, eyed her deliberately, and then flicked the leftover portion into the fire. Olivia watched it disappear into the flames and, though she was relieved, she was also confused.

Without a word, he grasped onto her elbow and pulled her to her feet. He moved so he was in front of her, towering over her ominously, his face unreadable. He tilted his head to the side and looked her up and down as if judging something about her and then he reached both hands into the space between them and grabbed hold of her pants, working to unbutton them. It was déjà vu, they'd been here before and she'd been saved by a knock at the door. But she couldn't expect a similar interruption this time. She tried to move away, pull free of his grasp, but his grip was firm and she couldn't break loose. His fingers worked expertly amidst her struggles and within seconds he had the button undone.

"No," she cried out in desperation.

But in one swift motion, he jerked the pants down her legs, leaving them gathered around her ankles.

"Nice," he said, fingering the black fabric that covered her.

"Don't touch me," she snapped, emboldened by the fact that he couldn't point his gun at Zara in that moment.

"Oh, I'm going to do a lot more than that," he promised, squeezing her elbow painfully and shoving her back down onto the couch.

Olivia watched him walk away, completely disoriented, her mind reeling. She was sure that was what he wanted. He showed her one horror only to then threaten another. It was psychological warfare, and it was working. She wondered if this was what insanity felt like.

She heard clanging coming from behind her, his footsteps on the wood floor and then he was there, holding a pan, and she realized that, yet again, he'd misdirected her.

Lewis sat down next to her on the sofa and put a hand on her bare leg, running it up and down the length of her thigh.

"I hope you're not disappointed, we'll get around to that soon. But not up here, I don't trust you," he moved his hand to her inner thigh, watching her stiffen. "I'll have to make sure you're nice and tied down when it's time." He stared unfocused into the fire, a small smile on his lips, the image surely playing in his mind.

"But right now, it's time to commemorate this moment, us being together again." He broke his gaze away from the fire, turned to her and held up a silver key for her to examine. She recognized it as the key to the cabin. "Back in the day, slaves used to be branded with their owner's mark, had it burnt into their flesh. Consider this," he said holding up the key, "my mark. And until I decide to get rid of you, I own you." He closed his fingers around the key, studying her face intently, gauging her reaction, but getting none.

"And since I never got this far before...," he said, tapping her leg. She stared down at the smooth, tan flesh of her thigh, to be forever scarred by the symbol of this prison, of him. He dropped the key into the pan and she flinched at the sound of metal on metal.

Lewis moved to the fireplace and stuck the pan into the fire, flames lapping at it. He stared at her while he held it there, glee etched into his face, the light of the fire flickering in his eyes.

"No begging, no bargaining," he asked, disappointed.

"Why would I bother?" Her voice was resigned, her face emotionless, mentally already steeling herself for what she knew was coming.

"See, that's why I had to have you again." He turned away from her momentarily, looking into the pan enveloped in flame, and then turned back to her. "You're not like the other ones. They all broke so fast. They were begging for life or death, or both within hours. But not you. No, you're a challenge. Even when I thought I had you, I didn't. You just kept fighting."

Lewis gazed into the fire again and pulled the pan out of it. He set the pan on the stone perimeter and bent over, a pair of pliers in hand, grasping onto the key.

"But this time it's going to be different. I spent every night in prison imagining how I'd finally break you down," Lewis recalled, holding the key inches from her thigh, staring intently into her wide eyes. "And we've got nothing but time here. When you look at this, when you feel it burn, I want you to remember who put it there and why. Because it all ends here, baby. You'll break here and you'll die here."

He lowered the key the last few centimeters and pressed it to her leg.

For a second, the only thing Olivia registered was the hiss of the metal burning away her skin and then suddenly, heat flooded her body and she was consumed by searing pain.

* * *

><p>Nick stared through the bars and out the window of the prison interview room, waiting for Amanda to return. The sky was cloudless, the sun shining - it reminded him of the perfect day he'd spent at the zoo with Zara and Olivia. That seemed so long ago now. Everything had changed and he was sure nothing would ever be the same.<p>

"Ok, so Lewis' cellmate, Tennell Archer," Amanda said, entering the room. "He's 47, arrested on kidnap, assault and rape charges 2 years ago and get this...the guy's a genius. Got a 141 on the IQ test they gave him."

"Sounds like Lewis' kind of guy," Nick observed. He paused and looked out the barred doors to the prison hallway. "Is your partner pissed he has to sit this one out?"

Amanda shrugged. "A little," she conceded. "He's interviewing some of the guards. Trying to see if he can find out who Lewis was close to." Nick nodded.

They wanted their interview with Archer to appear a normal process in the manhunt. Two cops, that was routine. Three was too much, it screamed desperation and if Archer was anything like Lewis, he would sense the blood in the water. They didn't want that. If he knew how badly they needed his help, he'd be looking to make a deal...a deal they couldn't make. Nick had announced right away, there was no way he was sitting out. His daughter, his partner - no way. And they all agreed Amanda should be present because...well to put it simply Archer was a man who'd been in prison for years now. Amanda's presence would be far more interesting to him and, given what they knew of him now, it seemed like an even better decision.

They heard the unmistakable sound of a metal prison door sliding and then slamming shut. Their heads turned to watch a man in orange being escorted by a prison guard into the room. He was tall, about 6'5, slim, but muscular. His head was completely bald, his blue eyes hooded by light yellow eyebrows, his face sprinkled with light freckles. The guard sat him down in the chair at the metal table in the middle of the room and his thin lips turned up into a smile at the sight of Amanda leaning against the wall to his left.

"He's all yours," the guard told them, before turning to leave the room.

Nick regarded him with a polite nod and then took a seat across from the prisoner.

"Tennell, my name is..." Nick started, but was interrupted almost immediately.

"Just Archer. No one calls me by my first name."

"Ok, Archer. I'm detective Amaro with the NYPD," Nick said, flashing his shield. "This is detective Rollins." He motioned to Amanda and then continued, "We'd like to talk to you about..."

"William Lewis," Archer interjected.

"That's right," Nick confirmed, glancing at Amanda out of the corner of his eye.

"Cops come to see me a week after my cellmate escapes, doesn't take a genius to figure out why you're here," he told them casually.

"But you are a genius," Amanda asked, still leaning against the wall.

Archer turned his body slightly so he could see Amanda, "That's what they tell me."

"That's pretty impressive," Amanda conceded, eyebrows raised, lips pursed.

Nick saw what she was doing, apparently she was playing good cop, trying to draw him in. That was fine with him.

Amanda pushed away from the wall and walked across the room, Archer's eyes following her the whole way. She stopped behind Nick.

Archer smirked, "Glad you think so, detective."

"Let's talk about William Lewis. Were you and he close," Amanda asked, nonchalant.

"Like I said, he was my cellmate. You spend that many hours a day with someone and you get to know them pretty well," Archer said, leaning back in his chair.

"Did he ever talk about where he would go when he got out," Amanda asked.

"Detective, we're in prison. We spend ninety percent of our time in here thinking about what we're going to do when we get out," Archer explained, with a slight chuckle. "Yeah, he talked about it but the destination was never the same. Try all the beaches in the US, anywhere in Canada and a long list of no extradition countries."

"What if he wasn't looking to go very far? Maybe not even out of the state...do you know a place like that? Somewhere he could hide," Nick intervened.

"Hmmmm...now why would he be looking to stay around here, detective?"

"I'm not saying he is, I just want to cover all of our bases. We do have his picture out to every tollway, bus station, train station and airport in the state. It might be a little difficult for him to leave," Nick clarified.

Archer glanced between Nick and Amanda, put his elbows on the table and leaned forward in his chair. "You said you're NYPD detectives," Archer questioned, pointing between the two of them.

"Right," Nick confirmed with a nod.

"What kind of detectives are you again," Archer asked, suddenly intrigued.

Nick eyed Amanda before answering, "We're Special Victims."

"Special Victims...sex crimes detectives, right?" Nick and Amanda gave small confirmatory nods.

Archer mulled this over for a second and then broke into quiet laughter, shaking his head in what appeared to be disbelief.

Nick and Amanda watched him, at a complete loss for what had provoked this bout of hilarity.

"What's so funny," Amanda asked.

"Wasn't that bitch cop he kidnapped one of yours?"

Nick stood angrily at the insult to his partner. "Watch your mouth. Her name is Sergeant Benson." Amanda put a hand on his shoulder and Nick walked away from the table.

Archer held up his hands in placation. "Sorry, sorry...Sergeant Benson," he conceded, still smiling widely. He turned to Amanda. "Where's she right now?"

"She's busy," Nick said shortly from across the room.

"I bet she is," Archer agreed in a low voice, a knowing smile on his face. He watched Nick and Amanda share a wary glance.

"How long has he had her?"

Nick hesitated.

"Oh come on detective, it's not that hard. What other reason would SVU have to be here a week after Will escaped, asking the kind of questions you're asking. So I'll ask again, how long has he had her?"

Nick still considered evading the question or lying. But Archer knew and there was no getting around that now.

"About 12 hours," Nick muttered, turning to face the wall, while Amanda took the seat across from Archer.

"What kind of cops are you," he laughed. "Ya'll didn't see this coming? I did, no genius IQ necessary. There wasn't a day that went by that he didn't talk about getting his hands on her again."

"Of course we did," Nick barked, "but it's not that simple."

"He didn't just take her," Amanda added, eyeing Nick. "He also took a 7 year old girl to use as leverage against her. Now if you know where he..."

"I might," Archer interjected.

Nick spun quickly to face Archer, "Where would he take them?"

"What's in it for me," Archer asked.

Nick let out an exasperated hiss and Amanda held up a hand to him.

"What do you want?"

"Darlin' don't play dumb. I'm in prison, what do you think I want?"

Nick approached the table, resting his hands against it, eyeing Archer intently. "Listen we don't have the authority to make a deal like that, but I promise you if you help us, I'll testify at your next parole hearing. You get a cop testifying that you saved a little girl and an NYPD Sergeant, that could go a long way."

"He's right, hell I'll do the same," Amanda confirmed. "Come on, Archer. What do you have to lose?"

Archer sat back in his chair, hands clasped together, two fingers pressed into his lower lip, appearing to consider their words. After a long pause, he put his hands together in front of him on the table as if he was about to pray. "You two must think I'm an idiot." He sounded almost amused. "Or you thought throwing a beautiful woman in here would make me stupid. Either way..."

"No offense honey, you're very pretty and I'd do you in a heartbeat, but I'm guessing you're not offering that," he smirked. "And you're not offering me any guaranteed way out of here, so you're offering me nothing. I don't do something for nothing."

"Why protect Lewis," Amanda challenged. "He left you here."

"Oh I have no hard feelings about that," Archer informed them. "I'd have done the same thing had the opportunity arisen."

"We can make your life miserable," Nick threatened, straightening up so he towered over Archer seated at the table. "We can make sure you end up with no privileges, no freedom, just sitting in a hole of a cell in solitary."

The smirk that had been on Archer's face throughout most of the interview was suddenly gone. He looked at Nick warily, running a hand over his bald head. "Do you have a picture of her? Sergeant Benson?" His tone was suddenly serious, almost sympathetic and Nick wondered if Archer had changed his mind. Nick took out his phone and found what he was looking for, a picture of Olivia that Zara had insisted on taking right before they left her apartment that Saturday afternoon. She was smiling, her hair slightly tousled from the long day, which somehow only served to make her more beautiful, and she held up the stuffed tiger Zara had given her. Nick looked at the image, hesitant to share it, but then held his phone down so Archer could see it.

Archer studied it raptly, his face unreadable and finally Nick pulled his phone away from him, deciding he'd seen it long enough. "She's...stunning," Archer marveled, forced to finally tear his eyes away from the phone. He looked past them to the window and Nick followed his gaze expecting to find something outside, but he saw nothing except blue sky. Nick looked back to Archer who had put a hand on the table and began tapping his fingers rhythmically. Archer finally glanced to Amanda and then to Nick.

"Ok, I'm ready detective," he told Nick. Nick felt a surge of relief. Archer was going to turn on Lewis. He wasn't sure what prompted it and he didn't care. If Archer gave them a location where Lewis might have taken Olivia and Zara, they could be hours away from getting to them.

"Did you tell him about a place you lived? A place you built, maybe," Nick questioned eagerly.

The impish grin returned to Archer's face. "Oh no detective, I meant I'm ready to go to solitary." He put his hands together in front of him, mimicking being handcuffed. "Have them take me away, lock me up 23 hours a day. Been there done that." Archer sat straighter, coming to his full height in the chair, face void of any emotion, his eyes black and dead. The monster that had been lurking beneath the surface had reared it's head and there was nothing left of the pretense of humanity that he had offered before.

"We both know what he's doing to her right now. How many times do you think he's had her," he asked, his face impassive. "Can you see it detective? I can. Tied up, helpless, tears running down that beautiful face while he invades every part of her..."

"Shut up," Nick growled, moving quickly to Archer and grabbing hold of him, pulling the much bigger man out of the chair. Archer didn't flinch, didn't cry out, he just watched Nick's rage consume him with a chilling calm.

"He'll take and take from her and when he's done, that beautiful, vibrant woman will be a shell...if she survives," he taunted looking from Nick to Amanda beside him. "I'm guessing she won't."

"Enough," Amanda yelled, pulling on Nick. "Nick, come on, this is pointless."

He was shaking with fury, his face inches from Archer's. He felt Amanda's hand on his arm, tugging insistently on him and he jerked on Archer's prison suit once for good measure before releasing him.

They moved toward the sliding, barred door which opened upon their approach.

"I appreciate the picture of your Sergeant, though. I'll be thinking of her with my good friend Will tonight."

Nick stopped in his tracks and turned back to Archer, who was grinning deviously while a prison guard was putting him in handcuffs. The guard motioned Archer forward and he obliged, offering a wave of his fingers when he passed Nick and Amanda.

"If you ever find Will, give him my regards," Archer called back to them.

Nick and Amanda stepped into the hallway and watched Archer stroll down it, whistling to himself. Nick heard Amanda let out a shaky breath. She glanced up at him and then down the hallway, as Archer disappeared behind a door. "I feel like we just met William Lewis in ten years."

"Yeah," Nick nodded. They turned in the opposite direction and walked down the hallway toward the exit. They found Fin waiting for them at the front desk. He approached them impatiently as soon as he saw them, phone in hand.

"Just got off the phone with the Captain, we've got a lead."

* * *

><p>They were sitting in the dark, talking quietly as they did when Lewis wasn't around. He'd returned Olivia to the basement, reattached the chain to her ankle and turned out the light. Olivia sat with her legs straight out in front of her, doing whatever she could to keep her pants from irritating the burns on her legs, but the mere presence of the fabric constantly rubbing against them was agony. She thought that was the only reason he'd put them back on her.<p>

"What happened to your socks and shoes," Zara asked her, her voice filling the silence.

"I left them upstairs." Technically that was true. Lewis had taken them from her upstairs. Yet another precaution he was taking against her escape.

"What were you doing up there?"

She saw the key burning into her leg, cigarette after cigarette being slammed into her flesh. She shook the images from her mind.

"We were just talking," Olivia told her, glad the girl couldn't see her face.

"I heard yelling," Zara stated.

Screaming...same difference. She'd done her best to muffle them by burying her head in the sofa, but apparently that hadn't worked as well as she'd hoped.

"Yeah, we yelled, but everything's fine now," she said robotically.

She heard movement above, then the door opened and small slivers of light were visible on the concrete floor.

He was coming back...but he'd just left. She'd hoped maybe she was getting a reprieve, that he'd leave her alone for a few hours as he had done before. She stood and moved away from the mattress where she'd been sitting with Zara. A tactical decision. She didn't want to present any association with it and what it represented to him. Zara followed her lead and stood beside her.

There were footsteps on the ladder and a few seconds later, yellow light illuminated the room.

He stood just in front of the ladder, staring, silent, turning the rope he held in his hands.

She was tired of this, of the games.

"What do you want?"

"Did you think we were done? That was just the warm up, sweetheart," he laughed coldly at his pun, dropping his eyes to her legs. "It's time for the main event."

She didn't need to ask what that was, she already knew. So much for a reprieve. She considered her options and found them the same as they'd been hours ago when she'd been staring down this threat. There was only one. And that left her with the same goal that she'd had earlier...get Zara upstairs, away from this. And maybe, just maybe if Zara was away from him, out of immediate danger, there would be an opening for her to fight.

"Zara can't see this," Olivia insisted. "Let her go upstairs."

He shook his head. "She stays here."

"Why," she questioned, desperately. "You've already got me restrained. What do you have to lose by letting her go up there?"

"She might escape," Lewis pointed out, with little conviction. "Besides, I want her around just in case you need a little incentive."

"Incentive," she asked, her voice raised. "What am I going to do? Where am I going to go? I'm chained up, you have handcuffs and rope...and a gun." She ranted, throwing a hand out in exasperation. "And you need a little girl to do this?"

It was a dangerous game to be playing, trying to taunt him into anything. But she had nothing to lose. He'd made it very clear where this was headed. It was surreal, to be faced with the prospect of her own rape and not even attempt to bargain her way out of it because she knew it was useless. There was no humanity within him that she could appeal to, no threat she could issue that would hold any weight. So instead of wasting her breath trying to save herself, she was trying to spare Zara from being subjected to it. And even at that, she was failing. She scanned the room anxiously, sure the concrete walls were slowly closing in on her, taking away the air she was breathing, forcing her closer and closer to him.

"Not really. But I don't mind if she watches and since I can see you do..." He shrugged. "You don't make the rules, Olivia. Remember?"

"You bastard," she whispered, utterly distraught, eyes dropping to the floor, head shaking. "I should've shot you when I had the chance."

"Yeah, you should've," he agreed. "But you didn't. Too late now."

So this was it? Hadn't she known this was coming? Hadn't she accepted it when she'd made the decision to leave her apartment with him. No, she decided, judging by the way she felt, she hadn't accepted it at all. She'd known exactly what he wanted to do to her, but she'd barely considered it in her decision to come here. She'd only thought of Zara, getting to her, making sure she was ok. Everything else she'd left to chance and hoped that she'd find some way out of it. Except she hadn't. And she had no hope that she would. As long as Lewis had Zara to threaten she couldn't make a move, though the irrational part of her that was terrified screamed at her to do it. She would've been willing to risk her own life and fight. But she wouldn't risk a child's. So that left one thing to do...try to make this ok for her since there was no way to make it ok for herself.

Olivia knelt in front of Zara, taking the girl's hands in her own. She wondered if Zara could feel the small, constant tremors running through her body.

"Zara, I..." She didn't have the words. How did she explain this to her, how was she going to shield her? She decided to tell her the truth in it's most innocent form.

"Zara, something bad is going to happen. Something that you shouldn't see or hear...I know your mom and dad wouldn't want you to, I don't want you to, because I don't want you to be afraid." She paused. "So I need you to do something for me, ok?"

Zara nodded her head uncertainly, silently. Olivia glanced to Lewis, who was leaning against the wall, watching their exchange with the delight of a person who was getting everything he wanted and more. Olivia turned back to Zara. "Ok, good." She tried for a reassuring smile, though she thought she failed. She inhaled deeply and exhaled before continuing.

"I'm going to give you my coat and I need you to go over there, behind the ladder, and I need you to lay down, close your eyes, put your hands over your ears and sing. Can you do that for me?"

"What should I sing," Zara asked softly.

"Whatever you want," Olivia said. "Anything that makes you feel safe. But it's really important that you do everything I say and keep singing, no matter what you hear." Olivia's voice broke and she felt her eyes stinging. She dropped her head to the ground attempting to regain her composure.

"Is he going to hurt you?"

She looked up into Zara's wide, concerned eyes and then to Lewis, who was taking it all in with perverse pleasure, nodding his head in silent answer to her question.

"Yes, he is," she admitted. "And I'm telling you the truth, because I want you to know how important it is that you do what I say, ok?"

Zara's face crumpled, tears springing to her eyes, and she closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around Olivia's neck.

"I don't want him to hurt you," she cried into Olivia's shoulder.

Olivia wrapped her arm around Zara, hugging her tightly, emotion thick in her own voice. "I know you don't. But I'm going to be fine, as long you do what I said." Olivia leaned away from Zara and ran a hand through her hair.

"We're going to get through this. Your dad and Amanda and Fin will be here soon and they'll get us out of here. And when they do, I think we should go back to the zoo and see Maya again. That sound like a deal?"

Zara nodded her head slowly, wiping at her red, tear-stained face.

"That's optimistic," Lewis chuckled from where he stood against the wall.

"Shut up," she spat, not bothering to look at him.

"As entertaining as this has all been, I've got better things in mind so," he pushed away from the wall and took a few steps forward, his shadow looming over them, "if Zara's going to serenade us while we do it then by all means tell her to get started."

Olivia put her arms around Zara, hugging her tightly. "Remember what I told you," she whispered, "don't open your eyes and don't stop singing, no matter what you hear. Please." Olivia stood, grabbed the coat that she'd dropped earlier and held it out to Zara. Zara took the coat and walked hesitantly to the dark corner of the room beyond the ladder.

Olivia watched Zara lay her coat out on the floor and then sink down to the ground. She sat on it and turned back to them, staring uneasily.

"Start singing Zara," Lewis commanded, his voice flat. "Olivia and I need some adult time."

She looked to Olivia, who was silently willing her with a nod to do as she asked. Zara gave her one last uncertain glance and then laid down on the coat with her back to them, put her hands to her ears and seconds later, began singing.

Lewis listened to her for a moment. "Well, you know what that means," he smiled sadistically, taking the gun out of his jeans, "Time for the clothes to come off."

The simplicity of the statement was jarring, especially when it seemed so complicated to her. Because she couldn't seem to do it. Her limbs were so heavy, they may as well have been made of concrete instead of skin, muscle and bone. And even if her limbs weren't so heavy, her mind wouldn't let them move anyway. The synapses in her brain weren't firing. She was paralyzed. Was it fear or defiance, she couldn't really say. Whatever force was at work within her was rooted deeply and, though she knew she stood no chance of winning, she couldn't make herself give in that easily.

"I bet I can still hit her from here," Lewis threatened, aiming the gun across the room at Zara. Olivia glanced at her small form laying on the ground, vaguely aware that she was singing in spanish, then she glared at Lewis. There it was, the threat had been issued as she knew it would be, and the hesitance within her driven away by something more powerful than her need for self preservation...a need to protect another.

She slowly pulled her left arm through the green shirt she wore with some pain and then used her right arm to lift the garment over her head, tossing it aside.

She paused, focusing on the gun still aimed at Zara. He followed her gaze to the glock in his hand.

"That bothering you," he questioned, cocking his head to the side. "Then you better move faster. My trigger finger's getting heavy."

Olivia undid the button on her black pants and pushed them off her hips, down her legs, sliding painfully against the burns on her thighs. She stepped out of the right pant leg, the left hung on the chain attached to her ankle.

"Keep going," he demanded, his voice saturated with power and lust, "until it's all gone."

She put her head down. The tears that she had tried so hard not to shed were now threatening to spill out of her eyes. The dam was breaking, the flood gates opening and she knew it was only a matter of time until the torrent of emotion came pouring out of her.

Olivia reached behind her back with shaky hands and undid the black bra she was wearing. She pulled it away from her chest, dropped it to the floor and immediately covered herself. Her eyes scanned the room frantically, tears blurring her vision, her heart pounding wildly. She kept telling herself this couldn't be happening, it had to be a nightmare. He was, after all, a frequent visitor to them. But even in her worst nightmares, the terror wasn't this profound, nor the pain of her injuries so real.

She saw Lewis take a few steps forward. She glanced at him and he waved the gun at her, silently ordering the removal of her final piece of clothing.

With one hand covering her top, she reached the other hand down to her underwear and slid them down her legs, stepping out of them. She stood naked, humiliated, devastated, with tears rolling down her cheeks, looking anywhere but at the monster before her, who she knew must be wearing an expression akin to triumph on his face.

She heard the sound of metal and looked up to find Lewis approaching her, holding handcuffs. He stood in front of her, giving her an appraising once over, and then reached out and snatched both of her hands, which she was using to cover herself, quickly locking them tightly in the handcuffs.

"There we go," he sighed, his eyes raking over her body appreciatively. "Beautiful." Lewis reached out and lifted her chin so she was forced to meet his gaze. He wiped at the wetness that was now falling from her eyes, then examined the fluid on his thumb.

"You know in all the time we spent together before, everything I did, you barely shed a tear," he recalled, glancing back to her face. He held up his thumb. "But look at you now. I've got to be honest with you, I've never wanted anyone more."

And then his arm was around her waist, dragging her back to the mattress in the corner and she struggled against him, an ingrained reaction that required no thought. A scream was in her throat ready to tear free from her lips, but the sound of Zara singing reminded her to swallow it. He threw her down and she tried to roll away from him, but he was on her in an instant, hand around her throat, gun at her head.

"Enough," he growled dangerously, leaning over her so his face was inches from hers. "Or Zara takes your place."

And that was it, the fight within her was gone, easily extinguished by that very real threat. She never stood a chance.

He ran a length of rope around the chain of the handcuffs and then pulled on it so her arms were forced up and back. It was agony on her injured shoulder and a loud, strangled sob escaped her lips.

"Olivia," came Zara's scared, concerned voice.

Olivia looked back where Lewis was securing the rope through the D-rings in the wall, effectively trapping her arms above her head. She shut her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to impart a level of calm that she didn't feel.

"Yeah Zara, I'm fine," Olivia lied, voice cracking. "Remember what I said, don't stop."

Zara hesitated for a brief moment and then started her song again - her sweet, innocenct voice, now shaky and filled with emotion, singing a slow, spanish lullaby.

Lewis finished with her hands and came back to kneel beside her, dropping the gun to his side so both of his hands were free. He took her free leg and secured it to another ring in the floor with more rope.

He moved back up her body, running a hand up her leg, over the burns, up her stomach until he reached her face, cupping her cheek.

"I don't think you're going anywhere this time," he whispered. He forced his lips down onto hers and she protested against them, attempting to move her head away from him but finding it held firmly in place by his hands.

He released her and Olivia watched him stand, unbutton his pants, push them down his legs and step out of them. She turned her eyes away, unable to bear the sight of him exposed, ready. This was happening. She tugged hopelessly at her restraints. She'd been here before, so close to the act that she'd been certain it would happen and then saved at the last minute. But this wasn't like the other times. There was a finality to this, a certainty that there would be no last minute rescue, no timely interruption. She leaned her head back, staring unfocused at the ceiling, listening to Zara's voice as she sang.

_Pajarito que cantas en la laguna_

_No despiertes al niño que está en la cuna_

His hands were on her body again, rough hands that squeezed and grabbed, relentlessly, callously. She expelled long, deep breaths trying in vain to calm the raging storm of emotion within, but found the tears flowed more freely.

_Ea la nana_

_Ea la nana_

_Duérmete lucerito de la mañana_

She felt him move so he was in between her legs, his erection against her thigh.

_Pajarito que cantas junto a la fuente_

_Cállate que mi niño no se despierte_

He shoved a finger inside her. She choked back a sob at the intrusion and the pain, a stream of wetness trailing down her face like rain falling from the sky. "You're not ready for this at all," he sneered. Her disobedient eyes flickered momentarily to his and he grinned cruelly at her.

_Ea la nana_

_Ea la nana_

_Duérmete lucerito de la mañana_

Lewis removed his finger, grasped her hips and pulled her closer to him. Olivia whimpered in pain at the added stress on her shoulder. She felt him positioned at her opening and she forgot how to breathe. She was quietly sobbing and gasping, panicked, completely undone. "This is probably going to hurt," he told her, glancing up at her one final time. "You tell me which is worse, the burns or this."

She told herself to keep listening to Zara's voice. Just focus on her voice.

_A la nanita nana mi niño duerme_

_Con los ojos abiertos como las liebres_

Lewis paused, smirked and then entered her mercilessly. Olivia cried out in agony and horror as he thrust into her, tearing her apart again and again, her eyes staring blankly up at the ceiling, the sound of Zara's song echoing in her head.

_Ea la nana_

_Ea la nana_

_Duérmete lucerito de la mañana_

* * *

><p>And I realize the Zara aspect makes this last part even worse and icky, but again, I wanted to keep the characters in character and Lewis wouldn't care about scarring a child and he'd take any opportunity to make Olivia miserable.<p> 


	9. Chapter 9

Ok, so I know I'm slow, but this chapter gave me fits. I'm not a huge fan of writing internal monologue. It's not my forte. I much prefer dialogue, characters interacting, etc... but this chapter called for the internal monologue so I had to attempt it. Also, this chapter has a much different feel than the previous 8 chapters. Up until now it has been all about building the suspense, creating a sense of impending doom. But chapter 9 is decidedly different because doom is upon us...or at least Olivia and Zara. There's really no suspense building in here. If chapter 9 had a title, I think it would be 'The Lull', because it is a lull in the drama to some extent. It's kinda slow, doesn't really move things along, but I felt it necessary. I thought it would be a disservice to the story and a minimization of what Olivia has just endured if I continued along with Lewis doing his worst without stopping to pause and dwell on what's happened. So that's what I did. I'll try to do better with the next update. Most of this fic has been in Nick and Olivia's POV, but I switched to Amanda for this first part. I think I've done this once before, but it's still unfamiliar territory for me. Thanks to everyone for your support of this fic. It truly has been amazing and very much appreciated.

* * *

><p>"You sure you're doing ok?"<p>

"Yeah, I'm good," Fin answered, gripping the steering wheel, eyes darting to his partner, then back to the road.

"Ok...because you know if you're tired, we can switch," Amanda told him.

"Nah I'm fine, really," he assured her. "I've caught a few naps here and there. Besides, we're almost there."

They were traveling north on a two lane highway, following up on a call from the attendant at a gas station who claimed to have the keys to an NYPD vehicle...the vehicle Liv was driving, the NYPD desk attendant had realized after doing a little research into the tag number. It was only a matter of time after that until the Captain got the call about the keys, and he had in turn called Fin. They hadn't even gone back to the precinct, instead rushing on without hesitation on a 2 hour drive to the gas station upstate.

"Glad to see him finally getting some sleep," Amanda said, inclining her head back to Nick who was in the backseat, head leaning against the window, eyes closed.

Fin nodded in agreement. "Me too. He seemed pretty wired when you guys got out of that interview."

"Yeah, well...you missed one hell of an interview," Amanda revealed, expelling a long breath. "That guy was something else."

"He didn't give you anything," Fin asked. They had been so caught up in the new lead that they hadn't taken the time to discuss the interview with Archer. And it didn't really seem necessary considering he had given them nothing.

"No, not a thing. He was more than happy to protect Lewis and play games with us while doing it," Amanda explained. She glanced back to Nick and then to Fin. "He got in Nick's head. Hell, who am I kidding, he got in mine, too."

"He say something to you," Fin asked gruffly.

Amanda couldn't help but allow a small smile to play at her lips. That was Fin, ever the protective partner.

"It wasn't like that," she told him, "he just said all the things that we're already thinking, but don't want to say out loud."

Fin glanced over at her and she gave him a knowing look. He turned his eyes back to the road.

They sat in silence watching the landscape fly by them until Amanda tentatively broke the silence. "Last time it was so bad, and it was a fluke that he hadn't..." Amanda's voice trailed off, unable to say the word. She turned her head, gazing out the window. "Sorry. Like I said, he got in my head, too."

Fin shook his head. "You can't go there."

"Yeah, I know." Amanda sat up straighter in the seat. "But there was this moment with Archer where he dropped the pretense, he was different. I mean we know what these guys are - Lewis and Archer, but they always have this mask on and we see what they want us to see, not what they truly are...the way Liv has seen Lewis."

Amanda's eyes dropped down to her hands. "For a minute, with Archer, I saw it, I saw him. It just got me thinking about what it must've been like for Liv, being trapped with Lewis for those 4 days. What she must be going through now. I can't get it out of my head. And then there's Zara and..."

"Amanda," Fin interjected.

"I know, I know." Amanda held up her hands. "Focus on finding them."

"Look," Fin said, pointing to a gas station on the right, the building small, brown and moderately dilapidated.

"Guess that's it," Amanda replied.

Fin turned off the road, into the gas station, pulling into a parking spot directly in front of the building.

Amanda heard Nick shift in the seat behind them. "We here," he asked, his voice raspy from sleep.

"This is it," Fin confirmed.

"Let's go," Nick said, opening his door and stepping out of the car, shaking off any residual sleepiness.

Fin and Amanda exchanged a look and then opened their own doors, following Nick inside the building.

Nick flashed his badge to the attendant, "I'm Detective Amaro with the NYPD, these are Detectives Tutuola and Rollins," Nick said motioning to Fin and Amanda respectively. "We got a call about a set of keys that were found here. We believe they go to an NYPD squad car."

"Yes, of course, Detective. Tom told me about them." The attendant reached underneath the counter digging around and producing a set of keys that she held up for Nick to see. "These are the ones. Someone found 'em out in the parking lot and as soon Tom saw NYPD on there, he called. My name's Pam, by the way."

Nick reached for the keys and Pam handed them over to him.

"Nice to meet you, Pam," Amanda said, eyeing Nick as he studied the keys. She thought he looked disappointed that they were in fact just keys. Maybe he'd been hoping for more...some kind of message from Olivia, a number, a name. But the truth was if she had dropped them, and it seemed likely she had, they were lucky she'd been able to manage it at all under Lewis' watchful eye.

"Wow, they send three of you to do this," Pam asked. "I didn't realize the NYPD took their cars so seriously."

"They don't," Fin chimed in. "Was Tom working last night?"

"Well I worked until around midnight, maybe a little after. Then Tom took over," Pam said.

Fin pulled out his phone with a picture of Lewis on the screen and showed it to Pam. "You see this guy last night?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I remember him," Pam confirmed, nodding her head. "Hard to forget with that scar."

"Was this woman with him," Fin asked, swiping across his phone so a picture of Olivia was visible.

"I think it was her, it was dark, but she waited in the car," Pam told him, an uncertain look on her face, eyeing the three of them. "I take it this isn't just about missing car keys?"

"No, it's not," Amanda confirmed. "That man in the picture, his name is William Lewis, he escaped from prison a week ago. The woman with him is Sergeant Olivia Benson with the NYPD. He's holding her against her will."

"Are you sure," Pam interjected, skeptically. "She didn't seem like she was in trouble, she was driving the car. And she didn't try to signal for help or run away...If she had I would've tried to help her."

"Trust me, she's a hostage," Amanda assured her. "It's complicated. Lewis kidnapped a 7-year-old girl and is threatening her life to get Sergeant Benson to do what he wants."

"I can't believe this," Pam whispered. "He seemed like a nice guy."

"Yeah well, he's not," Nick muttered. "Did he say where he was going? What he was going to do? Anything you can remember could help us."

"He said he and his girlfriend were going away for a little while," Pam answered, still looking horrified.

"But he didn't say where," Amanda persisted.

Pam put a hand to her mouth, still reeling from the information they'd given her.

"No. I mean I asked, but all he said was they were going to spend time at a cabin he'd found for them," Pam recalled. "I remember thinking his girlfriend was a lucky woman."

"Did he say anything about a little girl," Nick questioned.

"No, nothing." Pam shook her head to emphasize this point.

"You've got a security camera up there," Amanda indicated the camera in the corner. "Any cameras on the parking lot or gas pumps?"

"No. We should have them, drive offs are a problem, but the owner never wanted to spend the money on them."

Nick, Fin and Amanda shared a glance between the three of them. "Ok, we'd like to get the security footage from this camera," Amanda told her.

"Sure, of course, just let me contact the owner and make him aware of the situation." Pam started to turn away towards the phone, but Nick stopped her.

"One more question, do you remember what he bought?"

"Um...no, I'm sorry. I see a lot of people," she explained. But just as soon as the words left her mouth, she held up a finger. "Wait a minute. I know he bought cigarettes. I remember because I was joking with him about asking for his ID and he said they weren't even for him, that they were for his girlfriend."

There was an uncertain, almost frightened look on Pam's face as her voice trailed off. Amanda glanced to Nick and Fin and thought she understood why. It wasn't that Pam understood the implication of Lewis buying cigarettes, it was the look on their faces that alerted her to some deeper meaning.

"I...I'll get that security footage for you."

"Thank you," Amanda said softly.

"Damn it," Nick yelled, putting his hand down forcefully on the counter, "we've still got nothing."

"It's better than what we had this morning," Amanda allowed. "At least now we have a direction, we know he's going to a cabin. And he couldn't have gone too far. He stashed Zara somewhere and came back to get Liv."

"Yeah, 24 hours later," Fin muttered. "That still leaves a pretty large distance he could've covered."

"Fine," Amanda conceded, "we've got nothing. You two happy now?" She turned and walked toward the door. "I'll wait outside."

Amanda shoved through the gas station door and stood on the curb, surveying the parking lot. She wasn't sure what prompted the outburst, she shared their frustration. What they had wasn't good enough, not even close. They didn't know if Lewis stayed on this road, if he turned off and went east or west, hell they didn't know if he was even in the state. And the lack of cameras in the parking lot was a disappointment because that meant they still didn't know what he was driving. So yeah, they had nothing. She sighed, kicking a rock off the sidewalk. She eyed their squad car parked in a parking spot in front of the building and pictured Lewis and Liv pulling into the same one at night, Lewis going inside while Olivia risked herself to leave a clue for them. Except it hadn't gotten them anywhere and she felt like somehow they were failing her because of that. She hated this feeling, it was same frustration and anger she'd experienced as they'd searched for Liv last time, all over again. The difference was, this time it was worse. Now they had Zara to worry about, too and they had the images of Olivia as she'd looked just after her escape from Lewis in their heads. They'd never really know everything he'd done to her over those 4 days because Olivia would never talk about it, but they knew it was bad. And even though she'd agreed with Fin that she shouldn't be dwelling on what was happening to them, she found herself standing on the curb, gazing out into the landscape around her, doing just that once more.

* * *

><p>It was over. On some level she recognized this as he was pushing away from her body, whispered words breaking through the haze that permeated her mind.<p>

_'I guess that's enough for now.'_

He stood, letting his eyes linger on her a moment, before turning his back to her, grabbing his pants from the floor and stepping into them.

"I'm not sure how you felt about that, but it was everything I thought it would be," he looked over his shoulder at her as he said the words, "and so much more."

She saw him out of the corner of her eye, heard his words, but with the eyes and ears of a person lost in their own head. Her mind could register nothing but shock and disbelief, unable to process what had happened to her, left in a fractured state of numbness. She expected to feel something, but there was nothing, like a part of her had crawled away and never come back. And the only thing left in it's place was pain. It'd become her constant companion during the assault, keeping her present in her nightmare while it was taking place. Pain had made a home in nearly every part of her body, and now it reminded her that even as she lay there bound, bruised and broken, feeling dead to the world, that she was very much alive. The ache she felt throbbed in tune with the beat of her heart, recalling a melody of horrors she was desperately trying to forget.

Olivia turned her head to check on Zara, still laying behind the ladder. Whether it was the residual effects of the pills, dehydration or the literal act of crying herself to sleep, she couldn't be sure, but at some point during the multiple assaults she'd endured, she'd realized that she no longer heard Zara's voice. And, though her voice had been an anchor for her during the worst moments of the ordeal, she was relieved for the sleep, whatever the reason for it. Zara had heard enough to know something terrible was happening, the tears in her voice as she sang had given that much away. Every minute of it she slept through was a relief to Olivia. Especially now when she was so ill-equipped to protect her. And protecting her was all Olivia had. It was what she'd sacrificed for since the moment Lewis had revealed himself in her apartment and it gave her purpose, a reason to keep fighting when the entirety of her existence had been whittled down to wondering how Lewis would hurt her next.

"What's going to happen to Zara," she asked, her voice soft, flat. As empty as her eyes, which stared ahead, brown pools void of light. She was surprised to hear her own voice, both the foreign quality of it and the fact that she'd managed to vocalize anything at all. Why was she talking to the man that had just raped her, repeatedly, viciously? But the answer to her question came easily...because she had no choice. Reality had come crashing down on her in the most horrific of ways and everything that she had tried to deny before couldn't be denied now. There was no more pretending that she had this under control, that she had any control at all. In one violent, cruel act he'd completely shattered any illusions she had about that. Now she was left with reality, her reality. He intended to kill her, he'd made that much clear. And as far promises went, he was making good on all of them, she thought bitterly. He had all the power, he could end her life whenever he decided it was time. It wasn't that she was giving up, because she wasn't. She couldn't. Zara needed her and, as deep as her wounds were, it wasn't within her to cease fighting. But their survival, or if not hers then Zara's, demanded an unflinching dose of realism. And after everything that she'd been through, realism seemed to be the only thing she could muster.

Olivia could see Lewis glance over to where Zara lay and then back to her, out of her periphery.

"Like I said before, nothing's gonna happen to her as long as you do what I say."

"And when you're..." she paused, resistant to the word, realism or not, "done with me."

"Oh," he said, realizing what she was asking, a smile playing at his lips. "I haven't decided yet."

Lewis approached her, kneeling down on the mattress by her side, running his hand up her shin to her knee. "But don't worry," he said, moving up her body, placing his lips on the outside of her knee. "There's plenty of time before that decision has to be made."

"I mean that...that was worth every day in prison waiting."

He leaned down so his face was inches from hers while she stared straight ahead at the wall, averting her eyes from him. "I may never get tired of you," he whispered, kissing the soft flesh of her breast where he'd left the impression of his teeth. The combination of the memory and his proximity was too much. Olivia's emotionless mask cracked, cringing at the contact, her breath hitching in her throat. She had a brief moment of panic at the thought that he wasn't done, that he'd climb back on top of her and resume his brutal assault. But he didn't. Instead he grabbed her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes, a smug smile on his face. "At least not for a while."

Lewis leaned back, letting his eyes travel over her body. "I bet you're ready to be untied, huh?" He looked down at her expectantly, waiting for a response, but she was silent. She couldn't bring herself to answer. She'd been humiliated, degraded, violated in the most heinous way. Her sense of humanity was hanging on by a thread and this was yet another attack on it. She was afraid if she gave in, the thread would snap and her sanity would fall away with it.

"No," he said raising an eyebrow, the question inflected in his tone. He got to his feet and turned his back to her, "Ok, maybe Zara can untie you when she wakes up."

Olivia squeezed her eyes shut at his words. No, that couldn't happen. Zara couldn't see her like this...tied down, naked, her body littered with burns and bruises. She'd done everything in her power to shield Zara from this, she couldn't let her face it now.

"Yes," she whispered, hesitantly. He stopped and turned around, grinning as he once again knelt beside her.

"I'm sorry what was that? I didn't hear you."

"Yes," she repeated louder, through gritted teeth.

"Yes, what," he asked in a condescending tone. He was going to take it all from her. Every shred of dignity, humanity...everything that he hadn't already ripped from her, he would eventually take. Piece by piece, he was dismantling her. Even this, this small battle they were fighting, he was determined to win...to see her fully submit. And he knew he would because there wasn't a single way she could win, nor a single way he could lose.

"Yes, I want to be untied," she said, monotonously.

"There, was that so hard?" Lewis slid his hand down her leg to her ankle, where he undid the knot in the rope. When her leg was free, he reached up and untied the rope that was laced through the d rings in the wall, freeing her cuffed hands. He grabbed the chain of the handcuffs before she could bring them in front of her and stuck the key in them, releasing her hands.

Olivia grimaced at the pain in her shoulder, which was worse, having been stuck in that position for what had to have been hours. She pushed herself away from him and up to a sitting position, bringing her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her knees. Her eyes were drawn to the deep red stain on the mattress, confirmation that the violence had occurred, that it wasn't a vivid nightmare she was going to wake up from. It felt like she was laying beneath him all over again, fighting to breathe against the heaviness in her chest, hopelessly wishing to dissolve away. She might have broken down right then, but Lewis was still there, watching her with a mixture of twisted fascination and amusement. Her desolation was one thing he couldn't force from her so she wouldn't give it to him willingly. He finally turned away from her, walking across the room to his black shirt, where he'd discarded it after he'd raped her for the first time. Olivia took this opportunity to get her own clothes, her pants and underwear hanging from the chain attached to her ankle, while her bra and shirt were piled a few feet from the mattress. She scooted off the mattress to the heap of clothes, taking a sharp breath at the agony brought on by her slight movement. The ache between her legs, which was already so strong, only intensified by her effort.

She worked her underwear up the chain, up her left leg and then her right, surprised by the enormous effort required to get them all the way up to her hips. When her underwear were on she went to work on her pants.

"Oh no, sweetheart, we're not done. Not even close. No point in putting those back on," he sneered, hovering over her. "You'll just be taking them off again."

She ignored him, putting her left foot into the leg of her pants, eyes down, voice soft. "Zara can't see me like this."

He squatted so he was eye level with her, one of his hands reaching out to grasp hers, squeezing so tightly she thought he was going to shatter the fragile bones of her hand into pieces.

"Who's in charge here," he asked slowly, emphasizing each word.

She was silent, unyielding, determined he would take nothing else from her, that she would travel the path of resistance when she could, even if resistance was an exercise in futility. She knew she didn't stand a chance, but her non-action was symbolic. It said that she hadn't given up, that she would always find a way to fight him.

"Short memory you have," he remarked. "That's ok, let me remind you."

Lewis dropped her hand and put his down on her thigh where he had burned her with the key, while the other grabbed a fist full of her pants, yanking them off her leg. Olivia flinched against the pain of his hand on the sensitive, wounded flesh of her burn. He reached into his pocket and produced a knife, flipping the blade open and holding it up for her to examine. He ran the blade through the pant leg, completely slicing the leg open, freeing it from the chain. He took the knife to the other leg, watching her face as he did this, completing his destruction of her pants by slicing through the remaining fabric, letting it fall to the floor in shreds.

She looked on as he destroyed her clothes, grabbing her bra next and rendering it unwearable with one quick cut. He picked up her shirt, holding it out for her to see, then sliced through it as well.

Olivia's devastated eyes stared at the shreds of her clothes on the floor next to him and then moved back to his face. He was eyeing the black fabric covering her.

"Please," she implored desperately, hating herself for saying the word, for how weak it sounded, but so weary and distraught at the thought of Zara seeing her like this, that she gave in to it.

A broad smile appeared on Lewis' face. As much as she hated uttering the word, he appeared pleased by it. He reached a hand out to her cheek, stroking it gently with his fingertips. "See? Now you remember," he said, in a voice that sounded like it was reserved for speaking to children.

He held up a finger to her and got up without saying a word. He walked across the room, grabbed his black t-shirt and then walked back to her and tossed it at her feet.

"Archer has some old clothes here so I don't need it. It's that or nothing. Your call," he told her, watching her eye the shirt. "Yeah, we can work on your thank you later." He turned and walked back to the ladder, glancing at Zara, then reaching up to the light and dimming it, but not all the way as he usually did. She could still make out Zara's form amidst the dark corner.

"I'll even leave some light on so Zara can find you," he said, gesturing to her small body curled up behind the ladder. He put one foot on the first step and began climbing. She listened to the sound of him disappearing up the ladder and then the slam of the door shutting.

Olivia picked up the shirt, holding it in her hands. The thought of putting it on made her sick. Of course, he'd known that when he'd given it to her. She would either remain exposed, or she would wear his shirt, yet another reminder of the power he had over her. She shoved down the opposition that was building, deciding her exposed state was not an option, and spread the shirt across her knees. She put her left arm in, then her right, slipping the shirt easily over her head. Her stomach rolled as she inhaled the scent. It smelled like him. She was inundated with memories of his repeated assaults against her...the taste of blood in her mouth from biting her own lip, the smell of him, the feel of his hands on her body, forceful, bruising, and the sound of his voice calling her back to misery when she tried to fade away.

Olivia turned her head to look at the crimson stain against white fabric of the makeshift bed. She took a deep breath and pushed herself up from the ground, hobbling to the mattress. She gripped it at the end and on the side against the wall, pulling up with all her might, against the endless supply of pain in her body. Once it was off the ground she re-adjusted and moved so that she was behind it, pushing it up and over. But it was awkward, and she struggled to heave it up all the way. She paused for a moment, mattress resting against her body, then began pushing up again, teeth gritted, a cry of frustration mixed with a sob escaping her lips, weary, desolate tears pricking at her eyes. She finally managed to push it over and the mattress fell to the floor with a smack. She limped to the other side and pushed it against the wall, sliding down to the ground as she did, head shaking, tears leaking from her eyes. Emotion had returned to her with a ferocity that consumed her. She crawled back to the wall and braced her back against it, pulling her knees into her chest, arms resting on her knees. She lowered her chin to her chest and released heavy sobs from her aching body, the sound of her cries ringing in the space around her. But even the wall couldn't hold her grief, and she slid down it to the cold floor, laying on her side, her body shaking with quiet gasps through tears.

There was no sense of time in her despair, in the dark, silent nothingness that surrounded her. It was cold, the bare skin of her legs and arms flush against the concrete floor robbed her of heat. Olivia shivered intermittently, but she ignored the meek protest her body offered. The images of the attack were ever-present in her head, constantly surfacing, threatening to drag her down, drown her in the memory of them. So she welcomed the coolness of the concrete against her body. It kept her in the present, a life raft amidst a storm of thoughts and memories, keeping her afloat in her own head.

She stared blankly at the floor, silent reflections occupying her mind. She'd spent fifteen years fighting against criminals like William Lewis, assuaging an unacknowledged guilt derived from the violent act responsible for her existence, hoping the good she did would extinguish any remnant of her father that lived within her. There'd always been a part of her that was afraid she'd be like him, that she would find some darkness in her heart, a product of a malady ingrained in his DNA and passed on to her. So the irony of this moment wasn't lost on her, because for all of her worries, it was instead her mother's footsteps that she walked in. It was a bitter pill to swallow. Had it been a certitude all along? A child conceived in rape, her life's mission fighting against the crime, only to end up a victim herself. It sounded like one of life's most ironic and cruel jokes. And when she remembered how she'd been saved from Harris, how she'd saved herself from Lewis before and still she'd ended up here...the sense of inevitability couldn't be denied.

Olivia pulled her knees into her chest, curling into herself, searching for some small measure of comfort against the unbearable ideas that plagued her thoughts, but she found none. Her eyes were heavy, fluttering open and shut, open and shut, a fight to stay awake, scared to let her eyes close and the black screen in her head drop...because she knew what movie would be playing. She pushed herself off the ground and checked on Zara once more before laying her head back down. Exhaustion finally won out and her tired eyes stayed closed. She waited for consciousness to slip away from her like grains of sand through her fingers, a transition from her waking nightmare into an unconscious one. And in the quiet of her mind a soft, slow lullaby reverberated, signaling the approach of sleep, beckoning her back to hell.

* * *

><p><em>Olivia's eyes snapped open at the sound of movement in the room. Her bleary eyes surveyed her surroundings for a source of noise, but the room around her was unmoving. Her eyes flitted to Zara, where she lay quiet and motionless behind the ladder. Lewis, she thought. It must be Lewis. Panic surged within her, but when she glanced up the ladder to the door, it was closed. She sighed in relief, eyes shut, leaning her head back against the wall. She rolled her head to the right, eyes flashing disobediently to the mattress in the corner of the room. She did a double take. Red...she saw the dark red stain on the mattress. She narrowed her eyes in confusion...she'd hidden it so Zara wouldn't see, so she wouldn't be reminded of it.<em>

_"You can't hide from it," came a voice to her left._

_Olivia jumped in surprise at the unexpected sound. She turned her head to the source of the voice and gasped._

_"Mother," Olivia whispered in disbelief, wide eyes staring up into the face of Serena Benson wearing a cream-colored suit with an elegant scarf around her neck, glowing in the surrounding dark. Olivia slowly leveraged herself up the wall until she was standing eye level with her._

_"I wish you'd listened to me. Look at what this job has cost you," Serena said, motioning to her, hand moving from head to toe._

_Olivia's shock melded easily into acceptance, then sadness. Emotion infused her voice. "I don't know what to do. Please help me."_

_Serena shook her head sadly. "I wish I could. But you belong to him now."_

_Serena pointed behind her, footsteps signaling an approach and Olivia turned to see Lewis bearing down on her._

_"Time for some more fun, sweetheart." Lewis' hand clamped down on her arm._

_"No, please," she pled with her mother._

_"I'm sorry," Serena said walking away. "But you're cursed...you always have been."_

_"No! Please don't go. Please," she implored, watching her slowly disappear._

_Lewis wrapped his arm around her waist and threw her to the ground. "You're mine, Olivia."_

_And that was all she could hear, filling every space in the room, every corner of her mind. 'You're mine, Olivia.'_

"Olivia."

"No!" Olivia yelled, startled awake by the feel of a hand on her shoulder and a voice in her ear calling her name. Her breath came out in gasps, tears falling down her cheeks, her body trembling at the memory of what she had awoken from.

She pushed herself up from the floor and turned her head to where her mother stood just moments ago, but found nothing except empty space. She remembered the feel of a hand on her shoulder and turned to the other side. It was Zara. She was kneeling at Olivia's side, staring at her with concerned eyes, searching her face with a shrewdness that was beyond her years.

"You were having a nightmare," she said softly, her voice full of compassion. "I thought I should wake you up."

Olivia rested her head against the wall and wiped at the tears that were running down her face. "Yeah," she exhaled in relief, between deep breaths. She glanced down to the ground and then up at the door above the ladder warily.

"He's not here," Zara informed her, sympathetically and without prompt or warning, she wrapped her small arms around Olivia's neck, her head resting on Olivia's shoulder.

Olivia leaned away from the wall to accommodate her and wrapped her own arms around the small child, closing her eyes in relief at a touch that was gentle and kind.

"It's going to be okay," Zara whispered to her, repeating the very words that Olivia herself had spoken not so long ago. "My dad will save us and he won't be able to hurt you anymore."

She said it with the innocence of someone who had no doubts about its truth. Fresh tears fell down Olivia's cheeks at Zara's declaration and she closed her eyes, nodding her head silently at the reassurance.

Finally Olivia pulled away, meeting Zara's worried eyes.

"How did you get to be so smart," she asked the little girl, holding her hand.

But Zara didn't respond, instead she examined Olivia with the same intensity that she had moments ago, her eyes dropping to Olivia's mostly uncovered legs, where angry burns and bruises contrasted with her tan skin.

"What happened to your clothes?"

Olivia looked down at her own state of dress or undress, as it were, as if she hadn't noticed it until Zara pointed it out.

"Lewis doesn't want me to run away, so he cut them up and gave me this to wear instead," Olivia explained carefully, hoping it sounded reasonable, terrified it wouldn't and Zara would probe further.

But Zara only nodded her head uncertainly, skeptically. She got to her feet and walked across the room, returning seconds later with Olivia's coat. She laid the coat gently over Olivia's legs.

"Thank you," Olivia choked out.

"I heard you crying..." Zara's voice trailed off, her eyes glued to Olivia's legs, where the burns and bruises were now covered by the coat.

Olivia saw a hint of her own ghosts reflected in Zara's face and a new wave of sadness swept over her at the realization that, no matter what measures she took to protect Zara from what was happening around her, they weren't absolute. This ordeal, if they were to make it out alive, would change her, had changed her, and the shadows she saw in those innocent eyes would only grow as each hour passed.

"Hey, come here," Olivia whispered, patting the ground beside her. Zara obliged, taking a seat next to Olivia and leaning into her, another gesture of comfort that she welcomed. Olivia wrapped an arm around Zara's shoulders.

"I'm going to be okay," she said with the kind of false positivity she hadn't realized she was still capable of.

"But he did something bad to you. And you're so sad," Zara said, looking up into Olivia's face.

The raw honesty and accuracy of the assessment was almost too much for her. Emotion was welling up within her again. She preëmptively wiped at her eyes.

"Yes, I am," she agreed, voice cracking, head down. She turned her head to look at Zara. "But you help me be less sad."

Zara looked up at her, considering this for a second. "My dad says my hugs fix everything. I'll hug you until you don't feel sad anymore," she offered genuinely.

Zara leaned farther into Olivia and threw her small arm across Olivia's middle, squeezing her tightly. Olivia accepted the embrace, finding it warmed the cold that had invaded her mind and body. She didn't have the heart to tell Zara that her hugs, as powerful as they may be, couldn't fix what had been broken inside of her. But she couldn't have spoken the words even if she wanted to, because the emotion that had threatened her seconds ago had finally taken over and silent tears were rolling down her cheeks again. She wished she could stop them, that she could be stronger, that she could spare Zara the image of her breaking down. But as with everything else that day, her emotions appeared to be yet another thing that she'd lost control over. So she cried, while Zara held her tighter, trying to hug the demons away...she wept for Zara and she wept for herself, for the horrors that had been visited upon her and the pieces of herself that had been ripped away.

* * *

><p>I wanted to add that, the dream sequence is not meant to assign those as real feelings...whether it be Serena actually feeling that way about Olivia or Olivia believing her mother would feel that way about her. From my POV, dreams are our brains processing information and often making a jumbled mess while doing it. I simply wanted to include a facet of everything that would be plaguing Olivia's mind.<p> 


	10. Chapter 10

Yes, I know. My update speed is getting worse. However, this is another new long for an update, add in some real life issues and the fact that I deleted a section and re-wrote it because I didn't like it and you can see why this took so long. Usually I have a lot to say about a chapter, but not really so with this one. It's been a real struggle. Probably because this story was based on the idea of Lewis' escape and after seeing the actual episode that SVU did and the perfection of it, it was hard to get back to writing this fic. But here I am. I introduce a new character, but if you're not a fan, don't worry, she won't be a major part of the story. Also, I should warn that this chapter contains violence. I think that's it, I hope you enjoy the read.

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><p>It'd been a restless night...or was it day? She didn't know anymore. She had no sense for the time of day or even the day itself. Not that it mattered. Her life now consisted of only two things: Zara and the torture that Lewis was inflicting on her. It didn't really matter if it was day or night. She wished she knew how long she'd been there. Then again, maybe she didn't want to know. It felt like weeks, but she guessed it wasn't nearly that long. Time passed in a different way in their concrete prison. The time that Lewis wasn't there went too quick and the time he spent with them seemed to pass in slow motion, each agonizing moment of pain, devastation and hopelessness seeming to last a lifetime.<p>

Olivia heard the creak of the floor boards above her, eyes drawn to the ceiling, listening warily for an indication that Lewis was coming back. A routine that she'd repeated many times since he'd left. Every sound, every vibration a signal of his return and each time she held her breath, eyes wide, waiting to hear the door open and for light to pour into the darkness. But he hadn't been back. Not yet. Still her attempts at sleep had been fitful, plagued by anxiety at the thought of his reappearance, by nightmares when she finally managed to drift away, her body aching and uncomfortable with the hard concrete beneath her and at her back. But she couldn't bring herself to lay on that mattress, no matter how much her body hurt. How could she after what he'd done to her there? So she'd watched Zara sleep, feeling the rise and fall of her chest at her side, Zara's arm still draped around her, the light inhale and exhale of her breath a soothing, hypnotic rhythm that helped to calm the turmoil in her mind.

Zara fidgeted next to her now, seeming to sense her anxiety, turning her eyes up to the ceiling.

"Is he coming back," Zara asked, looking up at her.

"Eventually," she admitted, nodding her head.

"Is he going to do more bad things?"

There was no point in lying to her now.

Olivia looked down at her and then away. "Yeah, sweetie, he is," she confirmed, sadly.

Zara considered this silently and then spoke in a tiny voice, "Olivia, are we going to die?"

Olivia's head snapped to the side, her eyes locked on Zara's, a look of horror on her face. "No," she said, resolutely. "Zara, listen to me, do you remember the promise I made you?"

Zara nodded.

"I won't let anything happen to you," she vowed. "I'm going to get you home to your mom and dad."

There were footsteps above, then the door opened and streaks of light flooded into the room in front of them. They both stiffened, alert, backs flush against the wall, watching Lewis as he descended into the room.

He took the final step and turned, reaching up to flip the light on.

"How are my guests this morning," he asked cheerily, a slight limp in his gait as he approached them in dark jeans and a white t-shirt.

So it was morning. That was something, though it only served to increase the desolation she felt. She'd have given anything to see the sunrise, breathe in fresh air, feel a soft breeze against her face. So many trivial things she'd taken for granted as part of every day life until she'd ended up in this cold, dark hole and now she missed it all.

Lewis' eyes raked over her and judging by the smirk on his face, she thought she knew what he was thinking. Olivia pulled her knees closer to her chest, wrapping her arms around her knees self-consciously.

"I like that look much better," he said with a wink, eyes fixed on the black shirt, his shirt. The smugness on his face and in his tone was enough to make her want to rip it off and throw it at him.

"You ever wear the boyfriend's shirt? Brian. I bet you did " he chuckled. "Not anymore."

Olivia dropped her eyes to the floor at the mention of Brian's name. She found her mind straying away from Lewis and this place, wondering what Brian was doing at that moment. Surely he knew she was gone by now and if she knew Brian like she thought she did, he'd be finding a way to blame himself. She missed him...the smell of him, the low vibration of his voice as he said her name, the strength and safety of his arms around her, holding her tightly. He'd been a safe place for her the past year, shelter in a raging storm where she could just exist in the way she needed to, with no expectations, no judgements. She looked down at her bare legs, marred by burns and bruises, visible reminders of an ache that went much deeper than her skin. It pained her to think that after everything they'd been through, if she made it out of this alive, they'd be right back where they started. No, that wasn't true, they'd be miles behind. Nothing would ever be the same for her.

"Tell me, was it serious between you and him," he asked. "It must've been. Moving in together...that's a big step."

It had been. She remembered the day they'd moved in to their apartment, being wrapped in Brian's arms, feeling a warmth and happiness that could only come from something that was right. The memory was like a knife to her heart now.

"You know, I almost killed him." Olivia's eyes snapped up to his at the admission. Lewis smiled at this, clearly pleased to finally have her attention.

"He came home before you did and I couldn't have him in my way," he leaned his shoulder against the wall, arms across his chest. "I was about to stab him with one of your kitchen knives when he got a call and left. Saved by the bell."

He pushed away from the wall and walked to where she sat with Zara, his shadow looming over them.

"It's a shame. I was looking forward to shoving that knife into his stomach...seeing him bleed out all over your apartment." His eyes locked on hers, watching the silent horror flicker in her eyes at the thought of it.

"You're quiet today," he noted. "Not in the mood to talk? That's ok. We had a big night. Zara and I can talk instead, can't we Zara?" Lewis stared down at Zara, the hint of a smile on his face. Olivia felt Zara tense next to her and her own body stiffened in response. Olivia put her hand on Zara's and looked up at Lewis.

"What do you want from me?"

"Look who finally decided to join the conversation," he jeered. "Too late. I'm talking to Zara now."

"Come here Zara," Lewis beckoned.

Olivia stood quickly against the protest of her aching body.

"Leave her alone," she commanded, standing resolutely in front of Zara.

"You know, Olivia, I think we have a serious communication problem in our relationship."

"We don't have a relationship," she said flatly.

"We don't," he contradicted, the question implicit in his tone. "We've been through a lot together, you and I. We've gotten as close as two people can get. I'd say we're connected."

He fixed her with a lascivious stare and brought his hand up to touch her hair, but she turned her head to the side, evading him. He laughed and shook his head, "So defiant."

He kneeled so he was eye level with Zara. "Come on Zara," he coaxed, "I just want to talk to you."

Olivia turned to look at Zara, who had pushed herself off the ground and walked slowly until she stood in front of Lewis. He grabbed one of her hands. "What's the matter, Zara? You don't want to talk to me?"

Zara paused and then shook her head hesitantly.

"Why not?"

"Because you're bad," Zara answered in a small voice. "You hurt people."

"People like Olivia?"

Zara nodded in confirmation. Lewis glanced up to Olivia then back to Zara.

"Olivia hurts people, too," he told her, pointing to his scar. "She did this, did you know that?"

Zara shook her head uncertainly.

"No you wouldn't, because Olivia lies," Lewis persisted, staring up at Olivia as he continued. "She's been lying to you. Zara, your dad isn't going to come save you and Olivia."

"You sick son of a..." Olivia took a step forward ready to strike, to pull Zara away from him, something, but she thought better of this approach and changed tact mid-sentence. "Zara, dont listen to him."

"I'm telling you the truth, and she knows it," he interjected over her. "No one is going to find us here. It's just you and me and Olivia til the end."

"My dad is coming," Zara insisted, a child-like innocence in her contradiction. "He's a police officer, he catches bad guys."

"Isn't that sweet," Lewis purred sardonically, standing so he was eye level with Olivia, gesturing to Zara. "What is it about little girls and their dads? Was it like that for you?" Lewis asked casually, glancing from Zara back to Olivia...his eyes lighting up with interest as if something had just dawned on him. "No it wasn't, was it? I almost forgot you don't like to talk about daddy, do you?"

Olivia swallowed hard. She could see the wheels turning in Lewis' head. He sensed it as he had that day at the beach house, some weakness within her that he was determined to discover. A wound she was hiding that he could find and rip open, hoping to cause her more pain. But she wouldn't give him the satisfaction, not if she could help it.

"Still don't want to talk about him, huh?" Lewis put his hand on Zara's head and Olivia lifted her eyes to meet his.

"No."

"Come on, it's only fair. I told you about mine." He paused, waiting expectantly.

"Go to hell."

Lewis laughed at her audacity. "This is hell," he replied. "Yours." He pulled something from his pocket and the gleam of light on metal caught her eye. It was a knife...a long, narrow blade approximately 6 inches long with a silver handle.

"One of Archer's," he said, holding up the blade. "I've never understood his fascination with these, but then again maybe I just need a little practice. " He shrugged his shoulders carelessly.

Lewis stepped past Zara and approached Olivia, resting the blade on her shoulder, then tracing in lightly toward her neck until he was holding it at her throat. Olivia was unmoving, staring straight ahead, a steely resolve in her eyes.

Lewis shifted so he was standing directly in front of her, forcing her to see him. "See the thing is Olivia, last time we had this discussion you were in charge, but now you're not. I am. I can make you talk."

He pressed the blade ever so slightly into her flesh, a small indentation visible where the point dug into her skin, a trickle of blood seeping from the wound.

Zara let out a frightened whimper from behind Lewis.

"I'm ok Zara," Olivia assured her.

Lewis ignored their exchange, focused only on the task at hand. "No," he asked, inclining his head, examining the cut he'd made, dabbing at the blood with his finger and holding it up for her to see. "This isn't doing it for you?"

He stared at her, eyes narrowed, studying her face intently. "You know, I could have you spilling your guts in a matter of seconds by putting this to her throat," he whispered to her. "But that would be redundant. Let's make this interesting, see how important that secret is to you."

Lewis stepped back and pulled her handcuffs from the waistband of his jeans, tossing them to her. "Put them on."

Olivia caught the cuffs, but made no further attempt to obey his order.

"There's no secret," she insisted, suppressing a rising panic. "I never met my father. That's the truth."

"Put them on," Lewis demanded loudly, seemingly deaf to her words.

She eyed the cuffs in her hand, trying to control the disquiet within at the feel of the cold metal against her skin, eyeing her bruised wrists that told the tale of her last encounter with the restraints. The handcuffs had come to mean one thing...he was going to hurt her. He'd used them when he'd taken her upstairs to torture her and he'd used them when he'd raped her. Either way, no matter what his game was, she knew it meant unspeakable horror. Was it worth it? Her resistance? He would hurt her no matter what. That was a given. And the thought of giving him what he wanted, especially such an intimate detail of her life, was unthinkable. Like handing him another weapon to use against her. But it was also inevitable. As he had so succinctly put it, all it took was a knife to Zara's throat and he could have anything he wanted. So if she couldn't win, if her struggle was futile, then why did she persist? There was some merit to her resistance, to showing him that he couldn't break her spirit, that no matter what he did, he wouldn't win. But this was not such an occasion. She'd only be trading physical pain to save her emotional pain and in the end she'd still lose because he would get it out of her, one way or another.

"Ok," she said, her voice resigned, a matching look of defeat on her face.

"But we haven't even gotten to the good part yet," he said, grinning. "You must be a terrible poker player."

He took a step forward and grabbed the handcuffs from her. He held them in his hand watching her expectantly. "Well, I'm waiting," he said, sounding impatient, holding the cuffs up again. "Unless you changed your mind."

She was silent, jaw clenched, steeling herself for what was coming, averting her eyes from him, focusing on the floor below her.

When she finally said the words, they rushed off of her lips like poison she was trying to expel from herself."My father was a rapist...he raped my mother." She exhaled a shaky breath and lifted her eyes cautiously.

A triumphant smile pulled at Lewis' lips, eyes dancing with unbridled glee. In that moment she knew she'd handed the devil her soul and he accepted the gift gladly, ready to use this new knowledge of her to bring her to her knees.

"And you're the end result." Lewis began to circle her, like a predator circled it's prey. "This just keeps getting better. I knew there was something about you, Olivia."

Olivia glanced at Zara, who was standing in front of her, taking their exchange in with a certain amount of confusion written on her face. She met Olivia's gaze, with her own wide, questioning eyes.

"So you became a sex crimes detective to what? Right the wrong daddy did? Arrest all the men in the world like him, some kind of catharsis for the miserable existence he doomed you to? I mean, it couldn't have been easy...your mother must've hated you," he taunted.

Olivia dropped her eyes to the floor and shook her head silently.

"No? Maybe she told you she loved you, that it didn't matter, but it did, it had to," he persisted in a serious tone. "How could she love a part him? Would you, Olivia? Would you love your rapist's baby?" He fixed her with a knowing look, smiling cruelly when her eyes widened in response.

"Shut up," she commanded.

"You probably look like him, too," he continued, circling back in front of her. "She had to stare into your face every day, reminded of the worst moment of her life. I bet she wanted to kill herself."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Olivia protested, turning her back, walking away from him.

"It all makes sense now, the beating you gave me. I didn't think you had it in you, but it was in your DNA all along, wasn't it? You know, Olivia, you might be more like me than you think."

"I'm nothing like you," she spat, as she rounded on him.

"You're probably right," he conceded. "You do have a lot more in common with your mother, don't you?" He paused, taking in the wounded expression on her face with delight. "I just can't get over the irony of your sad life. Born a child of rape, you become a detective who fights to put rapists away only to end up a victim yourself."

"Tragic," he lamented with mock sympathy.

How did he do it? It was like he'd reached into her mind and taken possession of every thought, every doubt, every fear she had about her mother, her father, about herself and he armed himself with them, wielding each one expertly against her, cutting her deeper with every word.

"Just stop."

"It's profound stuff, fatalistic even. What is that saying? The sins of the father are visited upon the children? That seems appropriate. Do you think you were cursed to this fate the second you were born? That maybe your whole life's been leading up to this moment, here, with me?"

He watched her pace slowly, hands across her chest, eyes down. "I guess that makes me an instrument of fate."

She stopped in her tracks, lifting her head to meet his gaze, eyes burning with anger. "This isn't fate. You're an instrument of your own sick, twisted desire to hurt people."

Lewis considered this. "I can see how thinking that would make you feel better," he allowed, turning his back on her and walking to the ladder. "But if this isn't fate, us, together again, after everything that's happened..." He spun around to face her, a pensive look on his face, "then what is?"

Olivia diverted her eyes from him, hoping he would leave, desperate for the conversation to end, to be able to close the wounds he'd opened. Though if she was honest with herself, they were already open, he had only stuck the knife in and twisted, ripping them further apart.

"You think about that," he told her. "I've gotta go out, but I'll be back soon." He spun where he stood, switching the light off as he went. "Then we can pick up where we left off last night. Something tells me, it's going to be even better this time," he called back to her through the dark, chuckling as he said it, while the sound of his footsteps on the ladder echoed through the room.

* * *

><p>The SVU squad room had been a flurry of activity for hours. People rushed hurriedly from desk to desk, phones rang, one after another, the constant buzz of voices heard throughout the room. There was an urgency to it all, a nervous anxiety that permeated the room, infecting every person within it's walls. It'd been 2 days since Lewis had taken Olivia, 3 days he'd had Zara, and for the squad, the situation was becoming increasingly desperate. They had gone public with the all the information they had on the evening news the previous night, a joint press conference between the State Police and the NYPD, hoping to get all three of their pictures out there, providing a number to call if they were spotted. The response was overwhelming. They were inundated with calls about Lewis, Olivia and Zara, none of which had produced anything significant up to that point.<p>

Nick stared blankly at his computer screen, listening vaguely to one such call.

"See, the government wants you to think that this Lewis guy broke out of jail, but no one can do that if the government doesn't want them to. They broke him out of jail," said a very paranoid sounding young man.

"Uh huh," Nick agreed, not really listening.

"He's a cover because they don't want you to know that the little girl and the cop were abducted by the aliens."

Nick held the phone away from himself, looking at it with bewilderment. He put it back to his ear. "Ok, thank you for your call, we'll look into that." He hung up the phone before the man could answer and sighed loudly.

"That's a new one," he said, exasperated. "The government broke Lewis out of jail as a cover. Liv and Zara were abducted by aliens." He turned his hands up in disbelief, shaking his head.

Amanda looked up from the file she was reading. 'Wow,' she mouthed silently. Fin shook his head. "Government conspiracy? Too bad Munch retired."

Cassidy, who had taken up residence in the squad room after telling Tucker in no uncertain terms that he was going to be a part of the investigation with or without his shield, rubbed his forehead with his fingers.

"Something public like this? The looney tunes always turn up."

Nick studied Cassidy. He'd aged in the past two days. His eyes were bloodshot, dull, with dark circles underneath them. His face outlined with a shade of black stubble flecked with grey. But it was his demeanor that was most telling. The intensity, the impishness, the acerbic wit - almost nonexistent. Cassidy was a ghost of the man that existed only days ago. A man without a home. It was easy for him to recognize, because he saw the same thing when he looked in the mirror.

"Listen up everyone," Cragen's voice broke in and they turned their heads to see him approaching their desks with a petite woman wearing a black suit with a deep blue shirt beneath her jacket. She was fortyish, with an athletic build, long, auburn hair, a heart-shaped face, and round, brown eyes. "This is..."

The Captain paused and turned to the woman.

She glanced at Cragen with a smile and then held her hand up, offering a small wave. "Hi, I'm Alicia Mason or as the guys I work with call me, Lee. I'll answer to Alicia, Lee or Mason," she said with a nervous laugh. "I'm an Investigator with the New York State Police. I've been assigned as the liason between our two agencies on this case."

"These are detectives Tutuola, Rollins and Amaro," the Captain told Alicia, indicating each of them respectively. "In case you weren't aware, Detective Amaro's daughter, Zara, was the little girl kidnapped."

"I'm so sorry to hear that, Detective," Alicia told Nick while shaking his hand.

"Thanks," Nick said softly.

"And this," said the Captain, motioning to Cassidy, "is Brian Cassidy. He's more of an honorary member of the squad right now. He's Sergeant Benson's boyfriend."

"I see," she greeted him with a sympathetic face and a nod, "well it's nice to meet you all. I know none of us want another agency to come swooping in on one of our cases. But let me assure you, we all share the same goal. I want Zara and Sergeant Benson home safe and William Lewis back behind bars. I'll work day and night to make that happen. You all are the experts on this guy, I'm just here to help when I can."

"I trust you all will work with Investigator Mason. The State Police are our allies in this. They have manpower and reach that we don't have throughout the state so let's use it and bring them home." The Captain surveyed his detectives, watching them all nod their heads.

"Ok, Investigator..."

"Alicia, please."

"Alicia, it was nice to meet you. Let me know if there's anything that I can do for you." The Captain turned and walked back to his office.

"Thank you, Captain," Alicia said, hands clasped at her waist. She turned back to face the squad.

"Well, obviously we were leading the manhunt for Lewis when he escaped from Bellevue, but I think I'm way behind on this case. I've gotten only a brief description of the events that led to Mr. Lewis ending up in Rikers," she explained. "I plan to read the case file and court testimony your Sergeant gave in order to familiarize myself with Lewis, but for now maybe you could fill in some blanks for me?"

"Of course," Amanda agreed.

"What's Lewis' story. All I've got on him are the basics...kidnapper, rapist, murderer."

"Uh...well, turns out he's got a long history of this stuff, he's just one lucky son of a bitch. We collared him on a simple indecent exposure. He broke into the apartment of a 60 year-old witness and raped and tortured her for 18 hours. We brought him up on those charges, but he walked because of a screw up at the lab and well, the rest is history. That's when he took Olivia...the first time." Amanda sighed, her eyes downcast.

"When you say torture..." Alicia's voice trailed off. She looked at them uncertainly.

"Likes to put his lit cigarettes out on his victims, brand them with keys, wire hangers, beat them, cut them," Fin's face contorted with disgust as he said the words. "I've worked SVU for 14 years and I've never seen anyone like him."

"Ok," Alicia exhaled. "What about leads? I understand you've looked into a couple. The last we had on him, we assumed he was headed west out-of-state based on where he'd abandoned the car he'd stolen from the hospital."

"We've got a confirmed sighting of him at a gas station 2 hours north of here," Nick explained. "But that's it. No real description of the car, no plates, and the only thing he told the attendant was he was taking Liv to a cabin."

"Yeah and we paid his cellmate at Rikers a visit," Amanda added, "we're pretty sure he knows something, but he was less than helpful."

"I'm sorry, like I said, playing catch up here," Alicia acknowledged, "but why do you think the cellmate knows something?"

"I don't know if you're aware of the details or not, but Lewis was able to corner Olivia in her apartment," Nick started. "He used my daughter as leverage to make her go with him willingly. Liv managed to record part of their exchange on her phone, she wanted us to know who we were dealing with from the beginning."

"That was smart of her," Alicia marveled.

"Yeah, she's the best," Nick agreed softly.

"Anyway, it was something Lewis said when he was talking to her, Cassidy's actually the one that got us there." Nick motioned to Brian who was sitting across from him.

"Uh yeah, Lewis told Liv that where he was taking her, there was only concrete and chains," Brian recounted, having memorized every word of the recording. "Then he said that she wouldn't escape because 'he' had made sure of it. He as in not Lewis himself, but someone else."

"Lewis, he's a loner," Fin continued, "He doesn't have anyone. No family, no friends."

"Right and it sounded like he was taking her some place specifically built for that purpose," Amanda explained. "Makes sense that he could've run across someone with such a place in prison."

"Archer, his cellmate, he's our guy, he knows where Lewis might have taken them, but he wants a deal and the DA will never agree to it," Nick said dejectedly.

"Archer," Alicia asked no one in particular, staring up at some imaginary image above their heads. "Why does that sound so familiar to me?"

"Tennell Archer. In Rikers for kidnap, assault and rape. Pretty tall, bald head...smart guy, too smart," Amanda told her.

"I think I remember him, or his case at least. It was one of ours in a district up north that caught him. If I remember right, he had a flat tire and the officer stopped to help him. He heard the girl in the trunk and that was that," Alicia recalled.

"Do you know what district it was in," Cassidy asked hopefully.

"I don't. But, why don't I make some phone calls to my colleagues and see what I can find out, maybe get ahold of his case file. There could be something in there that will help us find Olivia and Zara," Alicia offered.

They all nodded their agreement.

"Sounds good, we appreciate the help," Amanda said genuinely.

"Like I said, anything I can do, just let me know. I don't know Zara and Olivia, they're not my family as they are yours, but a fellow officer and a little girl, I don't need them to be family for it to be personal. And it is. I'm going to help you get them back," she promised.

Whatever Nick's first inclination about working with the State Police and Alicia Mason may have been, he was glad for her presence now. She offered the potential for new information which they were in short supply of and an injection of optimism that 3 days of searching with no leads had smothered out of them.

Alicia started to turn away from them, then spun back around, holding a finger up. "Would it be ok if I listened to the recording Olivia made? Not that I think you all missed anything, I'd just like to get an idea first hand of what I'm dealing with."

They all looked at each other, gauging one another's responsiveness to this idea.

"Uh...yeah, sure," Nick agreed, nodding his head. He pulled out his phone, tapped the screen a few times and then handed it to her. "It's ready when you are."

Alicia took the phone and found a seat along the wall in the otherwise crowded room. She pulled a pair of headphones from her bag and plugged them into Nick's phone. She tapped the screen once and began listening to the recording while Nick watched her with envy, trying to remember what it was like when he was doing his job. When a case was just a case, all important to him, but none with stakes so high, none that could mean losing his entire world.

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><p>Olivia listened to Lewis move around the house above her...waiting. He was leaving. The moment he'd uttered those words her mind had switched into overdrive, considering the possibilities. He'd never left them before as far as she knew, so this was an opportunity to make a move, to try to escape. They may never get another shot at it. The only problem was the chain on her leg. She'd tested it thoroughly, there was no weakness in it and it was locked around her ankle tight enough that she wouldn't be able to slip her foot free of it no matter how hard she pulled. If there was any chance of her leaving she'd have to take the time to attempt to pick the lock. The other option was to send Zara for help...if she'd go. Zara had already hesitated at the thought of this once before and to be honest, she didn't feel all that comfortable at the thought of sending her out into the forest alone. Even if she managed to get to the road, there was still danger. But she was way ahead of herself because she wasn't even sure if Zara could open the door. She had no sense for how heavy it was. Maybe it would be too heavy. Maybe Lewis was putting something over the door to prevent any such action. Still, maybes weren't sureties and if there was any chance that she could get them out of there, she was going to take it.<p>

She heard a door slam above and listened carefully for the sound of movement, but there was only silence. That, however, wasn't good enough for her...what if he wasn't gone yet? What if he came back? She counted to 60 in her head...once, twice, three times...four, five. Five minutes. Surely after five minutes he was really gone.

"Zara, I think we might be able to get out of here," Olivia told her, "but I need your help."

"Ok," Zara agreed.

"Ok, good," Olivia repeated. "You remember where the ladder is, right?" It was very dark, too dark to see the ladder. She would have to rely on memory of where it was to find it.

"Yes."

"I need you to climb that ladder and push on the door that Lewis uses. See if you can open it. Can you do that?"

"Yes," Zara replied.

Olivia heard her light footsteps on the concrete floor, quick and then slow, undoubtedly searching for the ladder. Eventually she must've have found it, because Olivia heard the sound of small feet climbing.

"Be really careful ok? Hold on tight, just push with one hand."

She listened to the sound of Zara climbing the ladder, holding her breath when the sound stopped.

"I can't get it," Zara sputtered through her effort.

The hope that she'd felt rising within her faded away. They'd have to find another way out of there or wait for the squad to find them. That meant time. More time spent with Lewis, more time for him torture her, more time for him to rape her. The acceptance of this fact was like a heavy weight on her chest, crushing her.

"It's ok, Zara," Olivia called to her, a measure of disappointment in her voice, "we'll find another way."

Olivia heard a pause in her struggles and waited for the sound of her small feet climbing back down, but it never came. Then Zara's voice broke through the darkness.

"I'm gonna use both my hands."

"No Zara, really, it's ok. I don't want you to get hurt," Olivia insisted urgently, imagining the girl standing unsteadily on the ladder pushing at the door with both hands, falling down to the concrete floor beneath her, while she would be unable to do anything to help her.

But Zara didn't answer and instead, a few moments later, Olivia saw light emanate into the room from above. She could make out Zara's legs on the ladder, taking a step up, while she heard the door topple over loudly.

"I did it," Zara exclaimed.

"You did great, Zara," Olivia told her, watching her dark figure descend the ladder, moving as far out as her restraint would allow her. The newly added light from above allowed Zara to see her and she hurried back to Olivia's side, looking up at her expectantly.

"What do we do now?"

Olivia found herself second guessing her earlier instinct. She tried to recall why she thought it was a good idea in the first place, mentally going through a checklist to convince herself why sending Zara away was the right thing to do. The door was open, Lewis was gone, she could be away from this place, from Lewis in minutes. Zara would be running into the forest, but she would have daylight. Lewis had already told them it was morning. Zara would be able to see where she was going, she could follow the path to road and get help. Maybe. If she could find the path and if Lewis didn't see her on his way back. And there were other dangers to worry about...animals, cars, other human predators or she could fall in the forest, hurt herself, and no one would ever know. Olivia squeezed her eyes shut against the image. But it was just as dangerous for her there. As long as she was near Lewis she would never truly be safe. There was a part of her that railed against sending her away, that said as long they were together, she could find a way to protect Zara. But she knew that wasn't true. She would willingly offer herself up as a sacrifice over and over again. But if Lewis decided he wanted to hurt Zara, he could, she couldn't stop him. The reality of the situation was that there was no good option. She was ultimately powerless to keep Zara safe whether she stayed or ran and the helplessness in that realization angered her.

"Zara...you need to run." She hadn't known what she was going to say until the moment it came from her lips and even now she was unsure if it was the right thing to say, but for all the dangers that Zara could face running to get help, they couldn't possibly compare to the threat that Lewis offered.

"No," Zara cried.

"Yes, Zara, it's not safe for you here," Olivia continued. "You need to run out of the cabin and keep going straight, there's a path there. You need to stay in the trees so you're hidden, but follow that path. You'll come to a road and then you wave for help. Someone will stop to help you and you tell that person your dad is an NYPD detective."

"I'm scared." She was shaking her head vigorously. "I can't go without you."

"Zara, you have to," Olivia insisted. "I can't leave with this thing on my leg."

"But we can get it off," Zara said hopefully. "We just have to find the key."

"No, we can't," Olivia disagreed. "Lewis has the key. I have to stay here, but you can get away."

"Please don't make me leave." She was crying. Olivia could make out tears on her cheeks and her heart broke. How could she force her out into the unknown, alone, even if she thought it was the best thing for her. For Zara, the thought was terrifying. As frightened as she was here, as bad as things were, they had each other and there was comfort in that.

Olivia wrapped her arms around Zara, running a soothing hand up and down her back. "Shhh. It's ok, I'm not going to make you do anything. I'm sorry. I just want you to be safe," she whispered.

"I am safe," Zara said, hugging her tighter. "I'm with you."

Emotion seized Olivia's throat, rendering her unable to respond to this assertion. The confidence that Zara had in her both bolstered and shattered her at the same time. She didn't want to let Zara down, she wanted to be worthy of the belief the little girl had in her, but Zara didn't comprehend the true nature of the situation. She didn't understand that Olivia had no control over anything except what Lewis allowed her to control. And even then it was only a choice between letting something horrible happen to Zara or enduring the horror herself. In the end, that was no choice at all. Still, they had an opportunity now that Lewis was away, she had a choice, and if Zara wouldn't run away on her own, then she was going to have to find a way to free herself so she could get her away from there. She'd never picked a padlock before, she didn't know if she could do it, but she knew the theory behind it and she was going to try. She leaned away from Zara, meeting her tear-filled eyes.

"Ok, we're both getting out of here, but we have to get this lock off my leg. Can you see it?" Olivia knelt down and grabbed hold of the padlock, holding the side with the key hole out for Zara to examine. "I need you to go upstairs and see if you can find anything that will fit here, where the key goes in. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes," Zara affirmed, sounding energized by this new assignment.

"Zara, this is really important. If you hear him come back, you need to get down here and shut the door as fast as you can. Ok?"

Zara nodded.

"Ok. Look for some really small stuff, a paper clip, a safety-pin, a small knife anything you think will fit in there."

"Ok." Zara turned and ran to the ladder.

Olivia watched her climb it apprehensively, uneasy at the thought of Zara up there alone where Lewis could come back at any moment. He hasn't been gone long, she told herself. We have time. She watched Zara disappear up the next level and listened to the sounds of her movement above.

She returned minutes later holding a fork and a pen. "These were on the table."

"Good job Zara," Olivia lauded. She took the objects from her hand and began working in the sparse light, trying to pick the lock at her ankle. Zara stood next to her watching her intently.

"Is it working?"

"No," Olivia sighed. "I need something long and skinny, you think you can find something?"

Zara nodded.

She handed Zara the pen. "Ok, we've got to hurry. Put this back on the table." Just in case, she thought. If this didn't work, everything would go back where it was. She didn't want there to be any trace of what they were attempting to do.

Zara disappeared up the ladder again and Olivia continued to work at the lock, bending one of the teeth of the fork so it fit more easily into the key hole. Zara descended the ladder a few minutes later holding something long and metallic. A letter opener.

"Will this work?"

Olivia looked up from where she was working. "It might." She took the letter opener from Zara and attempted to push the pins of the padlock down with it. She jiggled it against the resistance of the pins, feeling the first level give way. _This might work._ She continued applying force and felt more pins give under the pressure.

"It's working," she told Zara happily.

The sound of the door slamming shut shattered their moment of triumph. Olivia stopped what she was doing, frozen at the spot, her eyes darting to the light coming through the open door in the floor. Her mistake. Why hadn't she told Zara to shut the door? They were caught, he'd know what they were doing. How could he be back already, she wondered, dread creeping in on her. It felt like he'd only been gone for minutes.

She heard his footsteps above, moving slowly about the house until they stopped and there was a long silence.

"Someone's been a bad girl," he said, and she could picture him in her mind, leaning over the open door. "Not very smart Olivia." She heard danger in his voice. His footsteps echoed against the wood floor, loud, quick thuds, that imparted the same danger present in his voice.

"Olivia," Zara whimpered, her hand reaching out for her, finding Olivia's arm and hooking her own tiny arm around her, leaning into her for comfort.

"It's ok, it's going to be ok," Olivia reassured her, voice shaking. "I'll be right back, I have to hide these."

Olivia slipped from Zara's grasp and grabbed the objects at her feet. She went to the mattress and shoved them underneath it, then returned to where Zara stood waiting for her.

The tap of Lewis' shoes on the ladder reverberated through the room and she saw his form descending to them. The footsteps stopped and, as he stood at the foot of the ladder, cloaked in shadow, the only sound present in the room was the faint inhale and exhale of their anxious breaths. Finally he reached up and flipped on the light, bathing the room in a warm, yellow glow. But she thought their prison had never felt so dark and cold.

His face was impassive, eyes hard and her gun was gripped firmly in his right hand held at his side.

"Did I forget to mention I wasn't going far," he asked, monotonously. "Looks like you've been busy."

"Listen, I tried to get Zara to run, but she was too scared to go. No harm done," she said confidently, hoping the half truth in her explanation would placate him.

"That's it," he shrugged, a certain falseness in his tone.

"Yes," she confirmed.

"I see." He held the gun level at them, walking along the wall to the mattress. "She just opened the door and came right back down here," he asked, disbelieving. He grabbed the edge of the mattress and lifted up with his left hand.

"Look at that," he said, motioning with the gun to the objects she'd hidden underneath the mattress. "I wonder how those got there. Must be magic." Lewis grabbed the fork and the letter opener, letting the mattress fall to the floor. He walked to the ladder and climbed halfway up it, placing the objects on the wooden floor of the house. He climbed back down the steps and turned to them, his visage contorted into a chilling sneer.

Olivia held up her hands in surrender. She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off before she could say a word.

"Thought you could escape again," he interjected, it was both a statement of fact and a question. "I told you that wasn't going to happen."

She watched him warily, her eyes drawn to the gun in his hand, her gun, the muscles in his arm moving as he squeezed it in anger. This was dangerous, he was dangerous. He was always dangerous, but this was different. Usually everything was a game for him and he played that game with a strange mix of pleasant menace. But that demeanor belied his true nature, the cruel, cold sociopath behind the wit and charm. That man, who she'd encountered during short flashes of anger, was standing before them now. Lewis dropped his gaze from her to Zara, who was clinging to Olivia's side too scared to look at him.

"Come here, Zara," Lewis ordered. Olivia took a step in front of Zara, raising her hands again.

"Lewis, this was me," Olivia told him. "I did this. You want to blame someone for this, blame me."

He approached them slowly, eyes burning with anger. She realized her mistake in that moment, seeing his quiet rage. They'd exposed a weakness, a flaw in his otherwise perfect setup. Letting Zara remain unrestrained with her had been a mistake. Given more time, she might have been able to pick the lock and they might have escaped. He knew it and he knew she knew it. And he hated her for it. She'd outsmarted him again...she'd been minutes, maybe seconds, away from freedom. He'd taken every precaution to ensure that she could never win a single battle against him, yet she'd almost found a way to win the war. He would make her pay for what she'd done, she just didn't know how. And at this point all that mattered to her was that Zara didn't bear the brunt of his anger.

Lewis stopped in front of her, cocking his head to the side. "You know that's not how it works, Olivia. I told you that from the beginning. I thought we had an understanding."

The panic that had been rising within her surged on to full-blown terror. She took a step back, moving Zara with her as she did so.

"We do. I understand now," she insisted desperately.

He took a step toward them, looming ominously, his shadow drowning them in darkness.

"Please, this is my fault," Olivia whispered, putting a hand to her chest.

"Yes, it is," he agreed coldly, tucking the gun into the waistband of his jeans.

Olivia was momentarily relieved by this action, until his fist swung toward her, striking the left side of her face. She staggered to the side, her vision blurry, struggling to remain upright, stunned by the explosion of pain she felt. She put a hand to her face instinctively, the coppery taste of blood in her mouth. Her vision refocused in time to see him swinging his fist again, this time into her stomach, the air in her lungs forced out in one rush of breath. She coughed and gasped, falling to the floor, holding her stomach. Tears pooled in her eyes, while tiny specks danced before her. She was vaguely aware of Zara's terrified cries coming from somewhere in the room, but her voice sounded so far away. She wanted to comfort her, to reassure her, but she didn't have the breath within her to make an attempt. Olivia rolled onto her hands and knees, one arm still wrapped around her stomach, trying to find the stability and strength to push herself to her feet.

"You know, you're getting off easy," Lewis said, standing over her. "Imagine if I had a metal post to beat you with."

He took a step forward and then his foot came crashing into her ribs. If she had regained any ability to breathe, it was stolen from her once more. She fell back to the concrete floor gasping, body shaking in agony.

He stood near her head, hovering over her, while she stared at his boots, waiting for him to kick her again. But a second later, he walked away and she heard his muffled voice speaking to Zara. "Say goodbye to Olivia."

Was he going to kill her? Is that what her escape attempt had cost them? Lewis would snuff out her life and Zara would be left alone with him, at his mercy. _I'm sorry, Zara._

"Olivia," Zara screamed and the terror in her voice forced Olivia to lift her head, searching the room for them. And then she saw her, Lewis, gun in hand, was leading Zara toward the ladder while she flailed in his grasp, reaching back out for Olivia, beckoning to her for help. They were almost out of her reach, she had to move.

Olivia hoisted her body off the ground and used every bit of strength she had within her to throw herself at Lewis, grabbing him from behind, wrapping her arms around his neck. He dropped Zara's arm and brought his hands up to where her arms were locked around his neck. He struggled to break her hold, but she was determined, holding on as if their lives depended on it. And she thought they did. When he made no progress in his attempt at her hands, he turned his back to the wall and slammed her body into it, her head smacking into the concrete, the impact paralyzing her. Lewis used this opportunity to wrench her arms from him and threw her to the ground. He straddled her body, a knee on either side of her hips and let his full weight rest on her, pinning her to the ground. He quickly slipped the gun back into his jeans and put his hand around her throat, closing off her airway, while he used his other hand to fend off hers. She stared up into his face, eyes wide, desperate to breathe. She clawed at the hand around her throat, but with each second that passed, her struggles became weaker. He leered down at her, watching the fight leave her with lust-filled eyes.

"If you're trying to turn me on, it's working," he growled, leaning over her so he was inches away from her face, using his free hand to squeeze her breast. "Unfortunately, that'll have to wait now."

He released his grip on her throat and Olivia breathed in deeply, high-pitched, ragged gasps for precious air that her lungs had been deprived of for so long. She glanced to Zara who stood behind Lewis, utterly terrified, tears falling down her cheeks. She saw movement out of the corner of her eye and looked back in time to see Lewis' fist slam into her face. She barely had time to register what had happened before his fist came down on her again. Blackness swam in front of her eyes and her ears rang with the impact of the blows. The weight that held her to the ground lifted and she wanted to move, but she was drowning, fighting to keep her head above water, teetering on the edge of darkness.

Even as oblivion threatened to pull her under, she could hear Zara crying, calling to her, begging for help. But she couldn't make her body move. She squinted through bleary eyes and saw Lewis dragging Zara forward, scooping her up at his side when they reached the ladder. She wanted to scream at him, beg, plead, promise anything and everything to get him to come back, to bring Zara back to her. But they were disappearing up the ladder rapidly and she couldn't seem to make a sound, let alone form words. She looked up at the ceiling watching the yellow light that enveloped the room slowly give way to black, while Zara's cries echoed from above. She rolled to her side, a last effort at getting up, at action, but her body was having none of it and her vision only dimmed further with the movement.

Olivia lay on her side on the cold concrete floor, listening to her own ragged breaths, each one further exacerbating the pain in her side. Her eyes were wet with unshed tears and blood seeped from her nose onto the floor and into her mouth, remnants of his intense beating. Darkness was closing in on her. She could feel herself falling away into an endless black abyss. She listened for the sound of Zara's voice, but she heard nothing. She was gone. Lewis had taken her and there was no telling what he was doing to her. _What have I done? This is my fault. _Those words repeated over and over in her head, taunting her mercilessly. She lay unmoving but for the rise and fall of her chest, the sound of Zara's screams still ringing in her ears, certain they would haunt her forever. But as she surrendered to unconsciousness, it wasn't Zara's screams that plagued her thoughts, instead it was the faint, but unmistakable blast of a gunshot that cut through the silence, echoing in her mind, escorting her into darkness.

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><p>So there's that. Kinda an evil place to leave off, but evil is what I do. Speaking of...expect next chapter to be rough.<p> 


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11? But I only signed up for 10 chapters. The story tricked me. 20 is my final offer story. *shakes fist* Anyway...this chapter is dark. Just so, so dark in every way really. Emotionally, mentally, physically. It makes me cringe and at times I wondered if I'd gone too far with it. I guess you'll have to let me know. I'd written more detail into the end scene and then I took it out last minute because it felt like too much, so there's that. Also, I'm trying to find the right balance with Olivia. I'm of the opinion that Olivia would find a way/reason/motivation to fight until the very end, no matter what. But realistically, I think after everything she's been through and continues to go through, she'd inevitably have moments where she wanted to give in, give up, etc... I'm doing my best to balance it all. Thank you to everyone leaving reviews. I'll liken my fanfic to a fire and you all are the oxygen. Fire simply cannot exist without oxygen. Your words are the motivation and inspiration that drive me, so thank you again. Warnings: This chapter contains violence and rape.

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><p>"Lewis," Olivia screamed angrily, as loud as she could, her yell breaking off after only a second when her voice was stolen by hoarseness that had come from what had to have been hours of yelling. She'd been screaming for him intermittently since she'd come to on the ground, surrounded by trickles of her own blood, her head and ribs aching. It took a great effort for her now to be upright, pacing back and forth as she yelled, one hand held protectively across her ribs. But she barely registered the pain she was in. Only one thought occupied her mind. Zara.<p>

She was gone, Lewis had taken her. And that fact alone would've been terrifying enough, but she remembered the gunshot she'd heard as she was on the verge of passing out, and that sound continued ringing in her ears even now, spurring her on towards hysteria. But there had to be some other explanation for what she'd heard. He wouldn't kill Zara, she was his leverage. She had to be alive. She was alive. The alternative was unimaginable. The fact remained that she was gone and that meant every second that Lewis wasn't spending with her, he could be doing something to Zara.

"Lewis," she yelled again, staring up into the ceiling, eyes searching as if she could see through it and find him. "I know you're up there you son of a bitch!"

He was. He had been for a while. She'd listened to him move around. Sometimes in and out of the house, more often inside the house itself. As if on cue, she heard the creak of the floor boards underneath his feet as he walked around the cabin, but seconds later the sound stopped. And still, the door did not open. How ironic for her to be calling out for him, to be demanding he return when, not long ago, she would've done anything to never see his face again. She turned to face the wall, head down, one arm wrapped around her middle while the other rested against the concrete. He was playing games with her. Yet another demonstration of his power. Because he knew how desperate she was now that Zara had been taken from her, left to some unknown fate. She closed her eyes and brought her hand up, bracing it against the wall, leaning in to touch her forehead to the cool concrete. She tried to calm the torrent of emotion and urgency in her mind, searching for an answer to his game. What did he want from her? What would make him appear? Her anger had done nothing for him apparently. He got her anger all the time. No, she thought, he wanted something, but it wasn't anger or defiance...he didn't want her strength. He wanted what he so rarely got from her, what he had to threaten to get. Weakness. For her to give in, to validate that he was in control, that he had power over her. If that's what it would take, she could give it to him.

"Lewis," she shouted again in a more defeated, passive tone. "Please. I'll do whatever you want, say whatever you want. Just tell me where she is!"

There was a long silence, then footsteps again and this time the footsteps were followed by the sound of the door opening. She felt relief wash over her, then dread. Her heart quickened its pace in her chest, while nervous anxiety took hold of her stomach. He was coming back. As much she wanted this, had insisted on it, there was still a part of her that was terrified at the thought of his return, of what he might do to her, of what he would tell her. She turned around to face him as he descended the ladder. When he reached the bottom step, he spun, his face impassive, eyes locking onto hers.

"Where is she," Olivia asked, single-minded in her purpose.

"Nice to see you too," he replied sarcastically.

"Where is Zara," Olivia persisted.

Lewis folded his arms across his chest and leveled her with cold, hard eyes. "She's gone."

Her eyes widened at the implication of his words. "No," she shook her head vigorously, repeating the word a second time.

"I told you what would happen," he said loudly over her. "I shot her, she's dead."

"She's not dead," Olivia shook her head, her voice loud, refuting his claim. "She's not. I want to see her."

Lewis regarded her with disinterest, her continued protests an annoyance to him. "That'll be difficult, I already buried her."

Olivia looked as if she'd been struck. She was frozen in place, eyes glassy, mouth open. She narrowed her eyes at him. "I don't believe you," she whispered, turning away from him.

"You don't," he asked, curiously, "If you didn't believe I'd do it, then why did you risk your life coming here? Why did you let me rape you?"

Olivia spun around to face him. "You need her to use against me."

"Do I," Lewis contradicted, eyes narrowed, a finger tapping against his pursed lips. "Weren't you the one that told me I didn't need her anymore?"

Olivia paused, remembering the conversation. She had said those words when she was trying to convince him to let Zara go. Now he was twisting them and she must've been nearer to despair than anger because she didn't even protest his false insinuation.

"Zara got you here, she served her purpose," he told her, "but we can do this the hard way. I couldn't let you get away with that stunt I walked in on. She paid for your mistake. Believe it, don't believe it. But she's not coming back."

Olivia shook her head in wordless horror. "No," she whispered, still refusing to believe what he was telling her. But even as she denied his assertions, she felt a familiar prickling sensation in her nose and wetness began to flood her eyes. Betrayals to her denial. There was no doubt he was capable of it and he was standing in front of her telling her Zara was gone. She heard the echo of the gunshot in her head and she squeezed her eyes shut against the memory of it, flinching away from the images that threatened to capture her mind.

"If it makes you feel any better, it was quick." Lewis reached into his pocket and pulled something yellow from it. He tossed it to the ground between them and she saw that the yellow fabric was stained with red. She inhaled sharply as she realized what it was...Zara's headband.

She put her hand to her mouth, stifling the scream that wanted to tear free from her lips. Her eyes shone with tears which had begun falling down her cheeks. She turned away from him, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing her break...and she was. The invisible hands of grief squeezed at her throat and chest, constricting, burning as she attempted to take a breath, but she couldn't seem to fill her lungs. She put a hand to her stomach as if she could hold back the nausea she felt, a wasted gesture, because the sickness was spreading rapidly. Her legs shook beneath her, small tremors that went up her body until all of her vibrated with devastation and sorrow.

"She cried for you until I pulled the trigger," he taunted, grinning as he twisted the knife.

His words assaulted her, a blow to her already churning stomach that sent her careening off-balance to the toilet a few feet away. She dropped to her knees with no regard for the pain of her bones slamming into the concrete and leaned over the opening. She coughed and gagged as her stomach heaved its meager contents into the bowl below, her throat burning from the acid that had been ejected from her stomach, an awful pain in her ribs at the contractions seizing her muscles. Her vision was blurred, body shaking with the effort of it all, while sobs passed through her lips. In a small corner of her mind, she registered the sound of footsteps on the ladder and surmised Lewis must not have been interested in watching her get sick. He'd gotten what he wanted.

She turned her head in time to hear the door close. Her eyes were drawn again to the bloodstained yellow piece of fabric on the floor. And though she tried, she couldn't stop the images that invaded her mind this time. The scene of her beating replayed in her head and she watched Lewis carry Zara up the ladder, but now she floated behind them, like a specter in another dimension, watching the scene wordlessly, unable to intervene. She saw Lewis drag Zara outside, throw her to the ground, take out the gun and aim it at her. Olivia couldn't take anymore. A fresh wave of nausea bubbled within her and she threw her head over the opening of the toilet as her stomach heaved again. She lingered over it, tear drops raining from her eyes into the water below, her nose running, sweat beaded at her forehead. Her breaths were shaky, quivering, interrupted by intermittent coughs and gasps. Finally she pushed away from the white bowl and swiped at the silver lever. She crawled to the wall and put her back against it, bringing her knees into her chest. She folded her arms across her knees and put her head down on them, her face crumpling as she did so, eyes still dripping liquid sorrow. Her shoulders moved with her sobs, audible vocalizations of pain escaping her lips, cries so raw they should've come from a wounded animal. How could she be gone? Zara, the beautiful little girl so full of life, who loved snow leopards and the color purple. Zara who'd been her anchor in this place and who'd comforted her as she wallowed in the depths of her own despair with a compassion that reminded her so much of her partner.

Nick. The thought was like a knife to her heart. He would be devastated. She'd seen the light begin to disappear from his eyes the moment he knew Zara had been taken and it'd faded every hour she was gone. He'd never get over this. If she managed to hold on, to make it out of this alive, how could she ever look him in the eyes again? Would he blame her? He should. This was her fault. Zara was here because of her and she died to punish her for what she'd done. She'd wanted to escape, motivated by the thought of getting Zara away from this place, from Lewis. It'd seemed like the right thing to do, but all she'd done instead was seal Zara's fate. _Why didn't he kill me? It should've been me. _

She opened her eyes, her head still resting on her arms, silence surrounding her, but for the sound of her own breathing. She was alone. That was the worst torture he'd inflicted on her, left to sit in the quiet, lit room, reminded that Zara was gone, that he'd murdered her. And he'd be back. Lewis would return to inflict more misery on her and right now she wasn't sure she'd survive, the weight of her grief so heavy, to take on anything else seemed insurmountable. She closed her eyes again, tears still leaking from them while the sobs that wracked her body had begun to subside. It took every bit of strength she had within her to resist the instinct to give up, give in, to concede defeat, whether it was acquiescence or death. Because to fight was exhausting, painful and there was no end in sight. But Lewis had stolen Zara's life and if she gave him hers, then he won, he got what he wanted and Zara's death, her murder, was meaningless. She couldn't, wouldn't let that be. She had to ensure William Lewis could never hurt anyone else ever again.

* * *

><p>Nick made his way into the 16th precinct, stepping into a free elevator and putting his back against the wall. He sighed loudly, head down, the stress of everything weighing heavily on him. He'd taken a brief break from the search for Lewis, Olivia and Zara to meet Maria at the hospital. He updated her on the search, visited his mother and talked with her doctor while he was there. He hated not being there for his mom, but as badly as he felt for leaving her, he thought she'd understand. He couldn't stay there...not when Zara and Olivia were with Lewis.<p>

Nick stepped off the elevator and walked hurriedly down the hallway, entering the busy squad room and approaching the desks.

"Hey, you're back," Amanda greeted him, lifting her eyes from the computer screen.

"How's your mom," Fin asked.

"Doctor says the swelling has gone down a little," Nick informed them. "They're keeping her in the coma, hoping she continues to heal. He said it could be a little longer than most because of her age."

"But things are moving in the right direction," Amanda said hopefully. "That's good news."

"Yeah," Nick agreed. "Anything happen while I was gone?"

"A couple of calls to the tip line we have to look into," Fin informed him, "but you know how those are, most of them are still spotting Lewis in the city. We all know he's not in the city."

Nick nodded his agreement.

"Lee...Alicia's back. She got ahold of Archer's case file," Amanda pointed to where Alicia and Cassidy were standing at a map, studying it. "Not that it comes as much of a surprise, but Archer's flat tire was on the same road as the gas station Liv and Lewis stopped at."

Nick nodded his head. They had suspected that Archer was the 'he' Lewis was referring to since the interview. This piece of information only served to confirm their suspicions. "Any idea where Archer was taking his victim?"

"He was about 2 hours north of the gas station when he was caught," Fin answered, "but that's all we know. He could've been 1 mile away from this cabin or 100. We don't know."

"The victim says in her statement that Archer told her he was taking her so far into the forest no one would hear her scream," Amanda recited, prepared to continue, only to be interrupted by Cassidy's voice.

"Which tells us nothing because it's all forest up there," he grumbled.

Cassidy and Alicia joined their huddle around Fin and Amanda's desks.

Nick scratched at his chin. "We can narrow it down. Chances are they aren't on state-owned property."

"I can tell you from experience on another case I worked, most of the forest in New York is privately owned. Something like three-quarters of it." Alicia held up a small version of a map of the state of New York and circled it with the end of her pen, before meeting his eyes with her own apologetic ones. "There will still be a lot of area left to cover."

Nick turned and went to his chair, sighing loudly as he dropped down into it, leaning over so his head was in his hands.

"We need more to go on," Cassidy said finally. "We can't search every forest in the state."

"So we start digging into Archer's life," Amanda suggested. "We find out everything we can about him until we find the piece of information that leads us to Liv and Zara."

They all nodded their agreement, except Nick who was using his middle finger and thumb to rub his forehead, shaking his head as he did so.

"What's wrong Nick," Fin asked.

"That takes time and they don't have it." His voice trailed off as a whisper.

"Nick..." Amanda started to protest, but he cut her off.

"They don't."

"They might," Alicia allowed, head bowed slightly. "I've been reading the case file, and I'm sure you all know this, but hear me out...the torture he put Olivia through was as much mental as it was physical. Lewis is smarter than most. Everything he did and said was designed to break her down. And he couldn't have been happy with the end result. No doubt he'll try again. The longer she holds out now, the longer they have." Her face was solemn, aware this would offer them little comfort.

Nick glanced from Cassidy to Fin and finally to Amanda, all wearing equally somber expressions. He considered what Alicia said, surprised that she seemed to know more than they did about the time Olivia spent with Lewis. They'd seen the injuries, they knew what Lewis had done to previous victims. But when it came to the specifics of Olivia's kidnapping, they were all in the dark, except maybe Cassidy, though he thought he saw an equally bewildered expression pass across his face.

"He doesn't realize there was a recording and that we know about Archer, so as far as he's concerned we know nothing. He won't feel rushed," Cassidy said quietly.

"Does that make you feel better," Nick asked seriously, a look of mutual understanding passing between them.

Cassidy shook his head.

"Yeah, me either," Nick mumbled softly, staring at the dreamcatcher that hung at his desk. He pictured Zara's delighted, smiling face as she'd given it to him and wondered if he'd ever see that smile again._  
><em>

* * *

><p>Olivia heard the door open above her, slamming onto the wood floor and the thud of boots on the ladder, descending to her.<p>

The footsteps stopped and the room was quiet. She sensed that he was staring at her, waiting for her to acknowledge his presence, but she wouldn't. She was content to sit with her knees to her chest, head down, eyes closed, pretending he wasn't there, that Zara was and this was all a nightmare.

His boots scraped against the concrete and she knew he was moving, heavy footsteps coming closer until they stopped abruptly. But even that did not phase her.

"We lived out in the country when I was a kid," Lewis started, "It was isolated out there, only a handful of houses scattered just outside the edge of town. There were hardly any kids in the area but there was this one, Roland, a fat little momma's boy. He lived near me. We hung out in the woods, went fishing, things 11 year old boys do. Roland was annoying and pretty useless, but he'd do anything I told him to because he was afraid of me...I liked that." There was a whimsical note in his voice.

Olivia buried her head further into her knees, remembering the last childhood memory he'd shared with her, certain this one would be equally as horrifying.

"Eventually I talked Roland into stealing bottles of alcohol from his house, bringing it to the woods so we could drink it. Then it was his mom's cigarettes, even money sometimes. He didn't want to do it, he was so pathetic, but I told him if he didn't I'd beat him up. Finally, one day Roland decided he had a backbone and he wasn't stealing anymore. You should've seen him, a shaking, stuttering mess whining about how his parents were going to find out," Lewis said, sounding disgusted.

"I told him it was ok, I didn't want him to get in trouble and he believed that," Lewis chuckled. "Roland had this new puppy, Corey, that he was always talking about so I told him we should go fishing the next day and he should bring Corey along so we could play with him. The next morning Roland was waiting in the woods for me, fishing gear in hand, his cute little black puppy on a leash. When we got to the pond, I pretended to have dropped my lure and got Roland to look for it so I could hold Corey's leash. While Roland was searching the grass, I picked Corey up, put him in a garbage bag and tied it. I called Roland's name, held up the bag because I wanted him to see, to watch what I was going to do. He didn't get it at first, and then Corey started pawing at the bag, whining and he finally understood but it was too late. I threw Corey in the pond, watched Roland's face while he watched the bag sink to the bottom knowing there was nothing he could do."

She heard his footsteps again, moving closer until she was sure he was standing right beside her.

"Roland learned a lesson that day. It's not over until I say it's over," Lewis told her and his voice was so close, she knew he was inches away, hovering over her. "Just like you had to be taught that lesson. Zara would be alive right now if you'd understood that."

He ran his fingers through her hair.

"You don't get to escape again," Lewis growled with barely concealed rage, grabbing her hair and yanking her head up. "We're done when I decide we're done."

Olivia glared at him, her eyes hard. "I'm going to kill you." She paused and then reasserted her promise. "No matter what it takes, I will make sure you can never hurt anyone else."

He let go of her hair and took a step back, leaning against the wall next to her. "You already tried that sweetheart," he laughed, amusement dancing on his face. "Look how that turned out. I'm still here...and you're my prisoner. Ain't life funny?"

She picked herself up off the ground and stood facing him. "I'll make sure you're gone this time. No chances, I'll put a bullet in your head."

Lewis made a clicking sound with his tongue. "Olivia," he sighed, shaking his head.

He pushed away from the wall and circled in front of her, only inches away. She met him with a look of defiance, standing as tall as her injured body would allow. He reached out and grabbed her chin, holding it firmly.

"You make a lot of promises. You told Zara everything would be ok and it wasn't, was it? She's dead. Now you're going to kill me? But you're in no position to make that kind of threat, are you," he asked, tracing her lips with his finger. "Your mouth has a bad habit of writing checks you can't cash."

Lewis eyed her lips purposefully, tapping his finger against them softly. "I can think of something better for you to do with that mouth."

Olivia ripped her head away from him, breaking free of his hold on her chin, a look of disgust and contempt twisting her features.

"Why don't you get on your knees," he sneered, pointing to the floor in the space between them, "and you can show me how sorry you are for trying to escape."

"Go to hell," she retorted, unyielding.

Lewis pulled the gun from his waistband and took a step toward her.

"Get on your knees," he said emphasizing each word, pointing the gun at her.

"No."

Lewis put the gun against her temple. "Do it now, Olivia..."

"Or what," she interjected. "Zara's gone. You can't use that threat anymore. You'll kill me? I don't think you will. If you wanted me dead right now, you would've shot me instead of Zara." Her voice broke as she finished. The disbelief and sadness were still so fresh, she wondered if there would ever be a time where saying the words wouldn't take her breath away. She glanced down to the ground, steadying herself.

"You want me alive. You're not ready for this sick game to be over with."

He inclined his head, studying her face, evaluating her resolve. She'd called his bluff and he hadn't expected that, she could see it in his eyes.

"Ok," he conceded, nodding his head, dropping the gun to his side. "You might be right. After all, we have just gotten started. But it doesn't matter, one way or another you'll give in. There are things worse than death, baby. You're about to find that out."

He pulled out the handcuffs and tossed them to her. She caught them and was overcome by the same unease she'd felt earlier. "Now, we're going upstairs. Do you want to put those on yourself or do you want to do that the hard way, too?"

Upstairs. She knew what that meant...fire, torture, pain. The burns on her legs started to sting at the memory of the last time they were up there, sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace as he branded her and slammed cigarettes down onto her flesh. She cringed inwardly at the memory. Upstairs meant something else, though. It meant freedom from the chain around her leg. It allowed her to hope that she'd be given an opportunity to escape or to kill Lewis. Here, in this prison, the odds were stacked against her. But upstairs? She had a fighting chance if the opportunity arose. She closed the handcuffs around her wrists and looked at him expectantly.

Lewis regarded her curiously, surprised at her suddenly pliant nature. "Look at you feeling cooperative all the sudden." He moved so he was behind her, flush against her back, his face next to hers, hands sliding beneath her shirt, groping. Olivia shut her eyes and braced herself against his weight. She silently prayed he wasn't going to change his mind and keep her down there, tie her down, rape her again as he'd been threatening to do since he'd done it the first time.

"Are you sure you don't want to do this the easy way," he whispered into her ear, warm breath on her neck. "It'll be a lot less painful, I can promise you that."

Olivia stared ahead stoically. Her silence as definitive an answer as a loud, defiant 'No'.

He stopped his exploration of her body but kept his mouth at her ear. "Have it your way," he whispered, "Just remember, I may want to keep you alive for now, but if it's a choice between letting you escape or shooting you...I'll shoot you. No hesitation." Lewis made a gun with his pointer finger and thumb and put it to the side of her head, pulling the imaginary trigger for effect. He backed away from her, bending down to unlock the chain at her ankle. She felt it slide from around her leg and then the gun in her back, urging her forward.

"Let's go."

* * *

><p>The squad room was quieter than it'd been in hours. It was late, the phones had stopped ringing, there was only a skeleton crew left, many having departed for the night after they were forced to re-evaluate their approach to the case. Nick looked around at the empty desks surrounding him. Alicia left hours ago, planning to travel north the next day to speak in person with Archer's arresting officer in the district up north. Cassidy was home showering, changing clothes. Fin and Amanda were out checking into a few leads that had been called in, though they expected to find nothing.<p>

Nick let his eyes drop to the file that lay unopened before him.

2013NY011418 People of The State of New York vs. William Lewis

Nick sighed and shook his head. He knew this was wrong, nothing in this file was going to offer him any insight as to where Lewis had taken Olivia and Zara. There was no good excuse for reading it. But he found himself drawn to it nonetheless. He'd seen it with Alicia's stuff when he'd gone to get Archer's case file and he'd grabbed it on a whim.

Well, not really a whim if he was honest. It'd been on his mind since earlier that day, when Alicia had spoken with more authority about what Lewis had done to Olivia than any of them could.

She was his partner, he'd found her in that house, he'd seen everything...her injuries, what she'd done to Lewis, the bed she was handcuffed to, the look in her eyes. It haunted him still to this day. And maybe knowing the rest, what those four days had been like for her, would be worse. But he felt like he needed to know, especially now.

He heard footsteps behind him and looked over his shoulder to find Cassidy approaching. Nick watched him take the seat across from his own, a weariness in his movements and his face.

"Hey."

"Fin and Rollins," Cassidy asked.

"Checking out a lead, they'll be back soon."

They sat in silence for a while, Cassidy with his head down, Nick still eyeing the file.

"She ever talk to you, really talk to you after the Lewis thing," Nick asked, meeting Cassidy's eyes.

He shook his head. "No. I tried, believe me I did." Cassidy paused and then continued, "She had these nightmares almost every night for a long time. Bad ones. She'd wake up screaming, trembling like it was thirty degrees except she was sweating, too. Sometimes it was so bad, it was like she was stuck in them. It was hard to get her out of those. Every time she had one, I tried to get her to talk to me, to tell me what she was seeing...I thought if she got it out, if we talked about it, maybe it would help." His voice trailed off. "But she said I didn't need to hear that stuff. She was fine." Cassidy let out an exasperated huff.

"Yeah," Nick nodded in commiseration and understanding of this sentiment.

After another silence, Nick finally held up the file that he'd been staring at for so long.

"I took this from Alicia's stuff and I've been sitting here looking at it for an hour." He handed the file to Cassidy who looked at it and then back to him in recognition.

"I can't seem to make myself open it, though," Nick told him.

Cassidy eyed it again. "Why's that?"

"Would you? It's right there."

"I want to. But I don't know, it feels wrong..."

"...because if she wanted us to know she'd tell us," Nick lamented, finishing his sentence. "I know. I don't want to betray her trust, even if she'd never know."

Cassidy nodded his agreement.

"It's going to be worse this time," Nick murmured, softly. "Last time he was distracted, this time it's just them."

"I know."

"I won't let her do this on her own again," Nick promised.

Cassidy looked up, meeting his eyes, "Yeah, me either."

* * *

><p>It was dark out. That was the first thing she noticed as Lewis hoisted her up the ladder, onto the wood floor of the cabin. The second, of course, was the fire crackling in the fireplace, burning intensely, blanketing the room in a yellow glow. She found her gaze drawn to the flames, a familiar foe that had left it's mark on her countless times with more to come it seemed. She could do this. She could handle what he would inflict on her, as she had so many times in the days she'd spent with him.<p>

Lewis pushed Olivia past the couch and led her into the kitchen, gun in hand. She studied everything she passed, observing every object, every detail, searching for something that might be useful to her.

He held the gun to her back, while he searched the kitchen for some unknown object. Olivia couldn't help but stare at the sink, a slight drip coming from the faucet. The tiny bit of moisture there both a taunt and a promise.

"There they are," Lewis mumbled softly, a pack of cigarettes in hand. He shoved them into his pocket and then picked up a glass from the counter, filling it with a small amount of water. He held it up to her, allowing her to examine it.

"Thirsty? You've got to be dehydrated from all that throwing up."

She was, her mouth was so dry, her throat raw from all the screaming she'd done. And it wasn't just that. She could feel herself getting weaker as each hour passed and dehydration set in further. Her muscles didn't work the same way anymore, her mind was cloudier, and she was tired...so tired. But she knew better, he wasn't about to offer her water out of some kindness that didn't even exist within him.

Lewis put the glass to his lips and drank the water. She watched it disappear sadly, but quickly tore her gaze away, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of her disappointment.

He set the glass in the sink and smirked, grabbing her elbow. "Let's have some fun."

He led her back toward the couch, around the other side of the room near the door. It was so close, a part of her wanted to run right then and there. She'd get in one good blow and take off as fast as she could. But how fast could she run in her condition? Starved, dehydrated, bruised, maybe broken ribs, no shoes. She thought he'd catch her and if not catch her, at least manage to fire the shot that would kill her. Her eyes dropped from the door to the piles of wood just to the left of the fireplace. That explained his movement in and out of the house. He'd been stockpiling wood inside the cabin, enough to create endless amounts of fire. The thought was unsettling. Lewis led her in front of the fireplace, shoved her down onto the couch and tucked the gun in his waistband. The flames danced in front of her while the warmth licked at her skin. The fire whispered to her, taunting her, promising her misery. She turned away from it, her eyes skimming the room again until she caught sight of silver. It was the knife Lewis had held to her throat on an end table feet away from her. The only thing standing between her and the knife, was Lewis. Hope fell away, there was no way she could get to it. But still her eyes were drawn to it, darting back and forth from the fireplace to the knife in a repetitive cycle as Lewis babbled on about fire, pain and punishment.

"Must be tempting," Lewis said, glancing between her and the thin silver blade on the table. She flinched, surprised at his voice and averted her eyes, choosing to stare at the piles of wood near the door.

"What would you do if I put that knife in your hand right now?"

She turned to him, an exasperated, quizzical expression gave way to unmasked hatred, echoing a promise she'd made earlier, "I'd kill you."

He nodded his head, a look of satisfaction playing across his features. "I thought you might say that."

She looked away from him, her gaze drawn once more to the fire until she noted movement out of the corner of her eye. Lewis' fist crashed into her cheek with force, turning her body so she was leaning off the couch. He used his hands to shove her to the floor at his feet and she landed on her stomach, catching herself on her forearms, face down on the floor. She registered Lewis' movement above her and started to push herself up, but he put a knee on either side of her body, trapping her beneath him. He grabbed the chain of her handcuffs and pulled on it so her arms were stretched out in front of her, palms to the floor.

He moved further up her body, leaning over her, speaking in a low, dangerous voice. "Here's your chance."

He put his hand down on her left arm holding it firmly in place while she struggled to look around, turn her head, decipher some meaning out of what he was doing and saying. And then she saw the blade in his right hand, hovering over her left hand, but it was too late. She watched in horror as the knife stabbed through the air in slow motion, seeming to fall endlessly until it reached her hand, penetrating an inch below her knuckles between her pointer and middle fingers, slicing through to the floor where it pierced the wood with a dull thud.

There was a high-pitched, unintelligible scream permeating the room, reverberating off the walls, that she knew must've been her own. But there was no familiarity in it. It seemed to come from a place within her that had never spoken before, awakened by the unspeakable agony she was in. Olivia stared at the knife in her hand watching blood begin to flow out of the wound, fighting the impulse to move it or make an attempt at pulling it out. She blinked rapidly, disbelief, shock, pain clearly etched into her face.

She felt Lewis' weight lift off of her and he moved so he was directly in front of her, his boots in her line of sight. She lifted her head as much she could manage and found him gazing down at her with a smirk on his face.

"Comfy? You were so interested in that knife, I thought we'd try something new."

He knelt down, resting a hand on top of the blade in her hand. She felt the pressure he applied, the knife shifting slightly against the muscle, tendons and bones of her hand, tearing it further apart, causing further agony if that was possible. She inhaled sharply and held her breath because even the slight movement of her lungs expanding and contracting was too much and somehow made the throbbing in her hand worse. Her eyes closed and then opened again, teeth gritted, right hand clenching into a fist, nails digging into the palm of her hand.

"I can't take credit for this idea, though. This is all Archer," he told her, staring at the point where the blade pierced her hand, "It's really too bad he can't be here. I like that guy."

He leaned down and ran a finger around the knife, smearing the blood that had pooled on her hand. "Lucky for you, I think I missed the arteries."

She didn't feel lucky, not at all.

"But don't worry, if the bleeding won't stop, we'll just have to cauterize it. I think I can manage that."

Lewis put the key in the handcuffs and freed her left wrist, fastening the cuff around the leg of the couch.

Her hand was aching, her heart beating fast, breaths coming out of her in short, loud pants. She was crying and she wasn't sure when she'd started, but it was an involuntary thing, as reflexive as the scream that had torn free from her lips. She put her forehead to the floor, an attempt to tear her focus away from her hand, the knife, pain, but it was useless because it was all-consuming. In her body, in her mind...there was no escape.

"Please," she whimpered.

"Please what?"

She exhaled a shaky breath and inhaled another before lifting her head slightly to meet his eyes. But it was the grin, that horrible, cruel grin, the same one he'd worn as he told her Zara had cried for her, that stopped her from continuing.

He brought his head down so he was level with her, looking directly into her eyes. "What's the matter Olivia? You're not enjoying the hard way?"

He stood up and his feet disappeared from view.

"You can't back out now. Besides, I think I like it better this way. Seeing you like that, pain all over that beautiful face..."

She heard him behind her, shifting noisily on the wood floor and then his hands were at her sides, grasping her underwear and pulling them down her legs.

"No," she sobbed, a hopeless, sorrow-filled cry.

"It reminds me it's been too long since I've had you."

Olivia felt him move behind her, his jeans against the bare skin of her leg. She saw one of his hands come down beside her and he leaned up so his mouth brushed against her ear.

"I'm going to fuck you six ways from Sunday," he whispered, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

"And then I'll make a masterpiece out of this beautiful canvas," he added, pushing her shirt up, running his hand down her bare back.

"After that? Maybe you can apologize like we talked about. I haven't decided yet. We'll just keep going until I get bored or you use that knife to kill me. Whatever comes first."

She cringed at the feel of his skin against hers and the intent in his words. Lewis pushed himself up so he was behind her again where she could no longer see him. She heard the creaking floor, the sound of his zipper and the faint rustle of his jeans being pushed down his legs. Then his hands grasped her legs with bruising force, attempting to pull them apart. She squeezed them together and pushed herself into the floor, trying in vain to hold him off. He pulled harder on her legs and in her focus on resistance, she accidentally shifted her left hand, allowing the knife to tear it further, pulling a cry from her lips. The shock of it froze her and allowed Lewis an opening. He pried her legs apart, lifting her hips and pressing himself into her. She let out of frustrated sob at the feel of him, at yet another battle lost and the inevitability of what was about to happen. He lifted her hips further, positioning himself at her entrance and in one painful thrust, he was inside her.

Lewis groaned, a low, guttural sound. He stretched one hand up to grab her hair, yanking her head back.

"You hear that Olivia? Silence. No singing this time. It's just you and me now."

He let go of hair, repositioning his hand at her hip and then he was moving inside of her, violently, relentlessly while she dropped her head to the floor in defeat, staring with lightless eyes into the fire, her body shifting with each invading thrust.

Olivia closed her eyes and prayed for the oblivion that had taken her after his beating, but it didn't come. She'd been abandoned by the dark abyss, left to awareness as Lewis ravaged her in the light of the fire, like a hammer to glass, shattering her, killing her. But it wasn't the literal act of injuring her body so severely that her heart would stop pumping, her lungs cease expanding. It was the intangible destruction of everything she was, her very soul. Second after second, act after cruel act, she was losing herself and there would be nothing left when he was finished. Just a hollow, empty shell of a body that he'd eventually kill, too.

She opened her eyes and stared lifelessly into the flames again, a single tear rolling down her cheek, numb hopelessness seizing her mind. She watched wisps of smoke drift away, sailing higher and higher above the the angry, raging flames and she longed for that freedom. To float away, escape, disappear into nothingness. No more grief, no more misery, no more pain. Just...nothing.

* * *

><p>Rough? Not as rough as other chapters? It's always hard to tell. And could someone please save Olivia?<p> 


	12. Chapter 12

Well, it took me a long time to get back into the state of mind for this story and honestly I'm not even sure I got all the way back to it, but I'm doing my best. I considered making this chapter all Lewis and Olivia, but I felt like that would throw the timing of the story off, so I needed to include the squad. Because I'm still having issues writing the squad stuff, I didn't go very deep with it, just used this chapter to move things along a bit. Hopefully down the line I can get back to fleshing out their stuff a little more. I make no promises from here on out about updates. My ironman training is in full swing and I don't have the time to write like I used to. I'll continue to work on it when I can, but that's all I can do. What else? I did hear those that said I shouldn't take stuff out of the story out of concern that it's too much, so I fought the urge to do that this time around and didn't pull any punches as difficult as it was. I think everyone's threshold for angst is different, so I guess if I can manage to write it, it'll stay. I thought this chapter would be less heavy than it turned out to be and I think I told people on twitter it shouldn't be that bad. Oops. No, it's probably not too bad, certainly last chapter was worse, but I think the first part is very hard to read. I have no control over this story, it just is what it is. And, now I'll stop rambling. Warning, this chapter contains a small amount of violence and rape.

* * *

><p>Pain. At first that was all she registered. She tried to discern where it was coming from, but then she gave up, realizing it was everywhere. Like a constant, it was as if it had always been there. Then there was heat. Uncomfortable warmth suffocating her body, like being wrapped in a blanket on a summer afternoon. It was dark there, but she could detect patches of light around her and there was a distant popping sound that was slowly becoming more distinguished. She swam through the dark, listening to the sound get closer and closer, the light getting brighter until she was right there, emerging into it.<p>

Olivia's eyes fluttered open, confused, alarmed, her vision blurry. She was on the floor, flames flickering inches away from her, a faint charcoal-like smell in the air. She searched her surroundings frantically trying to make sense of it all, the fire, the pain, the floor. But as she tried to make a move to push herself up, to lift her head and look around, a sharp pain shot through her left hand. Her eyes darted to it, a dread in that split second that she knew what she would find when they got there. A distant, vague nightmare that she'd hoped was just that. Except it wasn't. None of it had been. She closed her eyes at the memories that flashed in front of her eyes. The knife falling through the air, into her hand. Lewis inside her, raping her while she laid there helpless to stop him, praying for it to end. And it did. Only to begin anew. And it was everything...cigarettes, his hands, fire, a knife. Anything he could use to hurt her. She glanced to her left and saw the knife with the black handle laying on the floor in front of the fireplace. She remembered the glee with which he'd shown it to her before he'd heated it, pressed it to her back, carved into her skin, cutting her with no respite and all she could do was put her forehead to the floor and scream...cry. It'd seemed to go on forever. An endless cycle of violence, rape and torture. When he'd had his fill of one, moving on to the other and she was sure he'd never stop. But he had and she searched her hazy memory for an answer to what'd happened, why had she passed out? Was it the pain? Maybe he'd drugged her? Her head was pounding, she couldn't seem to focus. She leaned down to her right hand and put her fingers to her temple. It was sore to the touch and when she pulled her fingers away, they were stained with red. Her eyes widened in realization. He'd stopped because something happened, something he didn't expect. She remembered the sound of a car outside, then the slam of a door. How she'd tried to scream, but Lewis had put his hand over her mouth and when he couldn't make her stop he'd smashed her head into the floor to shut her up.

But where was he now? And who was here? Were they still here? Olivia lifted her head, still groggy, eyes bleary, doing her best to turn and survey the room around her, the task made easier by the light pouring in through the windows. She didn't see Lewis or anyone else. She closed her eyes and concentrated on listening for them. At first she couldn't get past the pounding in her own head and then she could only hear the pop of the fire, but finally she heard something else...faint voices. She recognized Lewis' voice, it was muffled and seemed to be coming from outside the cabin. Then there was another voice. A man's. Her heart raced, hope surging within. It felt too good to be true. Someone had found them, rescue was a breath away. All she had to do was get their attention.

"Help me," she croaked, her voice weak, hoarse. She listened again, they were still talking.

"Please, help me," she yelled a little louder, but it was still a weak cry. She looked to her right hand, still handcuffed to the leg of the sofa. She gripped the chain and pulled on the handcuffs, attempting to move the sofa, create some noise, but she didn't have the leverage. It didn't budge. She turned her head and noted the table at the end of the couch. She brought her right leg up, attempting to stretch it out, knock over the table, but it was just out of reach. Her eyes dropped to the wood floor and then shifted to her other hand, eyeing it warily. There was only one option left and it was going to hurt. She began pounding her right hand against the floor as hard as she could, making as much noise as she could. The floor shook from her effort, the vibration sending waves of pain up into her hand. But it didn't matter, if it got the attention of whoever was there, it was worth it. She gritted her teeth, continuing to slam her hand down onto the floor, doing the same with her feet, "Help!"

She heard the sound of the door opening and turned her head to look behind her. Lewis entered the cabin, alone, looking amused.

"You're awake," he said cheerfully. He closed the door behind him and stopped, arms across his chest, staring down at her.

She kept her head turned to him as much as she could manage, alert, studying his face for some sign of distress.

"Somone's here."

"Don't get too excited," he told her, "he's gone."

"Your face will be all over the news. It's only a matter of time before he recognizes you and calls the police, if he hasn't already."

Lewis laughed, shaking his head as he moved toward her, coming to rest on the couch where she lay at his feet.

"Do I look worried to you," he asked, an arrogant smirk on his face. "He won't be talking to anyone, especially the police."

"What did you do," she demanded, wearily.

"Oh don't be so dramatic," he sighed. "He's alive. But he's still not going to help you. May as well get used to it, it's just you and me baby."

He seemed to be unconcerned, sure that what he was telling her was true. She was confused, it didn't make sense, why was he so sure they wouldn't go to the police? But he was certain, she could see it in his eyes and that was enough to vanquish any hope that'd risen with in her. Her face fell and her eyes retreated from his, focusing instead on the hint of green she could see through the window in front of her.

He inclined his head, regarding her curiously. "What's the matter sweetheart? Disappointed?"

He slid off the couch and knelt beside her, running his hand over the sensitive skin of her back. She balled her right hand into a fist, jaw clenched as he traced over the burns and cuts he'd inflicted on her, every brush of his hand against her back agony.

"Look at you laying there...naked, defenseless," his hand moved down her back, trailing lower and lower, taunting her, "but you still think you're going to make it out of this alive, don't you?"

She put her head down, staring at the grain of the wood beneath her. Her brief moment of hope, the high at the thought of rescue had only allowed her to fall farther. She was suddenly all too aware of her own pain, of her exposed state, the feel of his hand on her skin...things she'd managed to ignore amidst the prospect of escape, now unavoidable. Her vulnerability undeniable.

Lewis pushed himself off the ground and stepped over her right arm, crouching down and lifting her head so she was forced to meet his eyes.

"You won't," he whispered. His tone was soft, it might've even been mistaken for gentle, but she knew better. "Soon you'll be begging me to end your life."

Lewis reached forward and grasped the knife, putting a small amount of pressure on it. Olivia couldn't hold back the whimper that escaped her lips. The corners of his mouth turned up into a cruel smile.

"You're wrong," she gasped through gritted teeth.

"You think so?" He applied force to the blade, turning it a fraction of an inch, fresh blood beginning to seep from the wound once more.

"Stop," Olivia implored, her face contorted in agony, but he continued applying pressure.

"Please stop." She was begging...her voice, her eyes, her words were pleading with him, but not for death. Instead she was pleading for mercy that she knew he wouldn't give her, that he hadn't given her in all the time they'd spent up there. Her right hand pulled at the handcuffs reflexively, trying in vain to reach his hand and make him stop. But she couldn't and he didn't. Instead he maintained his hold on the knife, eyes dancing with evil intention, watching her struggle against the handcuffs, cry, beg.

"Yeah, that hurts doesn't it?" She felt the pressure on the knife ease and she looked up into his eyes, breathing heavily, her body trembling, tears blurring her vision. "Pain can make you do things you never thought you'd do."

He reached out and brushed a finger against her cheek.

"And there's been a lot of pain, hasn't there? I bet you'd be a good girl now and do what I told you to do, wouldn't you?"

He stared at her expectantly, waiting for a response, but she could offer none. Surrender was on her tongue, threatening to break free from her lips, but some remaining shred of defiance kept them closed. A final barrier that she couldn't seem to tear down.

"No?" He narrowed his eyes at her. "Ok, I can do this as long as it takes. There's only one way you're getting off this floor."

Lewis leaned to his right and reached for the knife with the black handle laying on the floor. He set it beside him and grabbed her right hand, holding it in place against the wood as he'd done with her left.

"What are you doing," Olivia asked, panicked, eyeing the blade on the floor, trying to pull her hand free from his grasp.

Lewis picked up the knife and held it up, watching her stare at it, "This one's bigger. I don't think I'm going to miss the arteries this time."

Olivia's eyes were wide, her heart pounding in her chest, the pace of her breathing having quickened from the terror that seized her. She recalled the moment the knife entered her hand, the unbearable agony of it, the terrible pain that still radiated from her hand now. The thought of going through it again was unimaginable.

She watched him as he moved the knife over her hand, hovering inches away, eyes gleaming.

"No," she cried, struggling against him, but he was too strong. "Please don't."

"You had a chance to end this."

Lewis lowered the point of the blade to her hand, tapping it as if to mark the spot where he would put it through, "Right there I think." He lifted his gaze to meet hers and though he said nothing, she saw the question repeated in his eyes. This time she had an answer.

"I'll do whatever you want," she said quietly, eyes shining with unshed tears, her head dropping in defeat, "Anything. Just don't do that. I can't..." She shook her head, words failing her, only soft cries left in their place. She wanted to be stronger, braver in the face of this, of him, but the thought of the torture continuing was unbearable. Her mind was coming undone, screaming for it to end, telling her it didn't matter what it cost. She tried to convince herself that was true. The reality was he could do whatever he wanted to her, he already had, and she couldn't stop him. But she knew it did matter. It mattered to him and it mattered to her. It was a war that'd been going on for a year. Even when he was in prison, when she thought it was over, she'd fought his memory. Now here she was agreeing to surrender, another battle lost, and she'd lost so many already.

Lewis lowered the knife to the floor behind him and turned back to her, triumphant.

"You'll do anything." It was more of a statement than a question, but he looked at her expectantly waiting for confirmation of her surrender. She kept her head down and gave a slight, imperceptible nod in response. But that wasn't good enough for him. He grabbed her hair and lifted her head, her defeated eyes meeting his.

"Say it," he demanded.

"I'll do anything." She repeated the words slowly, her voice shaky, filled with emotion.

"I knew you would," he said, releasing his hold on her. Her head dropped once more, shame and humiliation rising within.

Lewis stood to his full height, arms folded across his chest, offering a slight tilt of his head, "Let's go. On your knees,"

She didn't move at first, but slowly she pushed herself up so that she was on her knees, hunched over, unable to straighten because the knife holding her hand to the floor would not allow it. She winced as her shirt fell down her body, irritating the burns and cuts on her back, but she was grateful to be covered again.

"Come on, all the way up," he commanded. "I need to see that pretty face."

"I can't," she mumbled, knowing exactly where this was headed. He knew she couldn't and he knew why. She braced herself for what she knew was coming.

"You can't," he sneered, "well then, let me help you." He knelt on one knee and in one quick motion grasped the handle of the knife in her hand and ripped it out. Olivia screamed, a wordless, pain-filled cry. She turned to the couch and buried her head in it, holding her injured left hand as if she could squeeze the pain out of it. She lifted her head and held her hand in front of her, looking at it in horror. Blood was flowing freely from the wound again. She assessed the damage, gingerly attempting to flex her fingers and make a fist, but only some of her fingers would obey the command and it hurt too much to continue trying.

Lewis walked around to her side and grabbed underneath her arms, pulling her away from the couch, turning her so she was facing him. She allowed him to maneuver her as he wanted, so consumed by misery that she offered no resistance.

"There we go, problem solved."

His hands went to the button on his pants making quick work of it, then he unzipped the zipper on his jeans, the faint, ominous sound of it causing her to cringe. For a second, her mind went to another place, a basement in a prison. That'd been the nightmare that haunted her for years. But this? This was every nightmare, in sleep and awake and Lewis would haunt her for the rest of her life, however long that was.

"I know you're smart enough not to do something we'll both regret," he told her as he pushed his pants down his legs, taking himself in his hand and stroking himself to readiness. Lewis moved closer to her and she turned her head away from the sight of him. He leaned down so he was eye level with her and put his hand around her throat. "But, in case you're feeling tempted to do something stupid, just know...I'll let a knife do what I can't if it comes to it. And it would be a shame for that to happen." He stared into her eyes, watching his words sink in, seemingly pleased by what he saw.

He stood and gripped her face in his hands. "Open your mouth."

Olivia's reaction was instinctive. She pressed her lips together and closed her eyes struggling against his restraining hands to turn her face away from him.

Lewis squeezed her face tighter. "Open your mouth, Olivia," he growled. "Or do I need to remind you of the alternative?"

He leaned down again and she thought he might hit her, but instead he grabbed hold of her left hand and dug his thumb into her wound.

Her scream pierced the silence in the room. She tried to pull away from him, but she was weak and he was strong.

"Ok," she sobbed, "ok." Her shoulders heaved, her cries a mixture of pain and sorrow.

Lewis released her hand and it fell to her side, throbbing with agonizing intensity. "One more chance," he threatened. "Then we start again. Maybe I'll put you on your back this time. That way I can see your face when you scream."

He reached behind her head and knotted his fingers in her hair, bringing her closer to him. He was inches away from her and even after everything she'd endured, she still looked at him with a certain sense of disbelief and horror that this was happening.

Her eyes flickered up to his, his face unreadable, eyes studying her, waiting to see if she'd truly relented or if she'd resist again. He wasn't going to force this on her, not completely. That wasn't the game he was playing. He wanted her to give in as he'd told her she would, to submit, to confirm that he had all the power and to show her that he could make her do anything with or without Zara.

She shook her head silently, utterly distraught, shattered, knowing she had no choice, she never had. He was right, his control over her was absolute, even without Zara, the only weapon he'd ever really needed was pain. And she couldn't take anymore of it. She felt weak and ashamed, but she was in unspeakable agony and she just wanted it to stop. But if she was honest with herself, it wasn't just the pain, it was also fear. There'd been times during the endless torture that she might've said anything just to make the pain end. She wanted to believe that she'd never beg for death, never give him that, but pain was a powerful force and her resolve against it was fading.

"What's it going to be?" He tugged on her hair to emphasize his impatience.

Olivia slowly opened her mouth, despair etched into her face as she did and he pushed her head forward until she felt him pass through her lips, a muffled whimper escaping her as he did.

"That's what I thought."

Lewis tightened his grip on her hair, pulling her head back before pushing her down again so he was fully inside her mouth. She squeezed her eyes shut, coughing and gagging at the intrusion into the back of her throat.

He laughed and looked down at her, watching as he pushed and pulled her head along his length.

"Imagine if your squad could see you now," he taunted, yanking her hair, forcing her head back. Her eyes snapped open and she found him staring down at her, grinning, "Not so tough anymore, are you Sergeant?

_Sergeant._ It sounded foreign, unfamiliar, like it was meant for another person in a different time and another life, a life that she'd been ripped away from. She remembered what it was like to be that woman. To be strong, independent, intelligent - to command respect. Somewhere along the way, amidst the torture, the grief, the violation, the degradation, she must've been lost, because she couldn't be here. She would've been smarter, stronger, fought harder, none of this would be happening to her.

Lewis resumed his assault and Olivia closed her eyes, because there was nothing else she could do. Every sense she possessed was besieged by him. The smell of him, the taste, his mocking smile, his taunts, the feel of his hand in her hair. She couldn't escape him and in that moment, she thought she never would. He'd so thoroughly dismantled her that she could never hope to recover all the pieces of herself that'd been ripped away. The squad might find her or maybe she'd manage to escape, but she would never truly leave this place. There would always be pieces of her that were trapped in this cabin, chained to the floor in a cold, dark cell, a knife through her hand in front of a raging fire, forever enduring torment, forever a prisoner of William Lewis.

* * *

><p>The town was quiet, small. A picture perfect community where people walked the sidewalks with their children, their dogs. Runners jogged along happily in the sun listening to music, bikers zipped along a trail that ran parallel to the road. People waved to each other, they smiled, laughed, gathered in groups and chatted along the main street businesses. Neighbors met along fence lines and held idle conversation while they worked around their yards. And on this day, with the sun shining, the green grass, the flowers in bloom everywhere they looked, it was hard to imagine that darkness had touched anyone that lived here. But as they pulled past a mailbox labeled Archer, into the driveway of a small white house on the end of a road marked Pleasant Lane, Amanda knew that was not true.<p>

"Nice town," Fin remarked, putting the car in park and turning it off.

"Yeah," Amanda agreed. "I don't know why, but it's hard for me to imagine any relative of Archer's living in a place like this."

Kassandra, Archer's sister. This was where digging into Archer's life led them. Because there was nowhere else to go. Not really. Archer's apartment had been searched thoroughly by police upon his arrest. His financials, tax records, employment history...everything had been combed through over and over again. There was no trace of any property owned by Tennell Archer.

Amanda opened the door and stepped out of the car, looking up at the house in front of her as she did. She noted a miniature table where dolls were perched in small chairs. Kassandra had a child, Archer was an uncle. The thought made her uneasy.

Fin's door slammed and she turned to him, he nodded to her, and they both moved forward up the sidewalk to the porch where Fin rang the door bell.

After a few seconds pause, they heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps, then the door swung open revealing a woman dressed in jeans and an oversized navy blue sweater. She had wavy blonde hair, blue eyes and a kind, round face. She pushed open the screen door with some confusion on her face.

"Can I help you?"

"Are you Kassandra Archer," Fin asked.

"Yes, I am," Kassandra replied.

"I'm Detective Tutuola, this is my partner Detective Rollins." Fin motioned to Amanda. "We're with the NYPD."

"NYPD," Kassandra interrupted, alarmed. "What is this about?"

"We wanted to talk to you about your brother," Amanda told her.

Kassandra's face fell, her eyes darting back and forth between them.

"My brother's in prison, what could he possibly have done now?"

"It's sort of a long story, but we really need your help. Two lives are depending on it."

Kassandra paused, staring past them, seeming to consider this. "Ok, come in," she agreed, moving aside and waving them into her home.

They stepped past her into the house. She closed the door behind them and motioned for them to sit on the cream-colored couch situated against the wall. They followed her unspoken instruction while she sat in a chair to their right, crossing one leg over the other, fidgeting nervously.

Amanda leaned forward, unsure of where to begin, but Kassandra saved her the trouble.

"You said lives were depending on my help...I don't understand. Archer's still in prison, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is," Amanda assured her, noting her slightly panicked tone of voice. "Archer's cellmate, a man named William Lewis, escaped the prison ward of a hospital almost two weeks ago. He's since kidnapped a 7-year-old girl and an NYPD Sergeant."

"Ok," Kassandra said, confusion etched into her face, "but I don't understand what this has to do with my brother."

"We believe he may know where Lewis took them, but he's not cooperating."

"That's no surprise," Kassandra replied. "I still don't understand why you think I'll be able to help you, though."

"Your brother kidnapped a woman. She told police he was taking her somewhere...," Amanda started hesitantly.

"I know," Kassandra interrupted.

"We need to know where he was taking her," Amanda continued. "There's a good chance Archer told Lewis about this place and Lewis may be there now. We were hoping you could help us."

"You're asking the wrong person, my brother and I aren't close."

"Please just try," Amanda implored. "You might know something you're not even aware you know. Were there any places that were special to Archer? A place he liked to go, maybe somewhere from your childhood, an old family home? Anything you can tell us might help us find Lewis."

Kassandra shook her head. "No, there's nothing. The state police asked me the same questions after he was arrested and I told them the same thing."

A girl that looked to be around 10 years old flitted into the room with a sense of urgency. Her blonde pony tail bobbed up and down as she bounced with excitement. "Mom, I can't find my dance outfit." She stopped and looked curiously at the visitors that were on the couch. "Who are they?"

"Maddy," Kassandra scolded, surprised and a little frustrated at the interruption. "They're police officers." She motioned to Fin and Amanda. They smiled, offering a small wave to Maddy who smiled shyly in return. "I'll help you find your dance outfit in a minute. Please go finish getting ready."

"Ok." Maddy bounded off down the hallway while they listened to the light thud of her disappearing footfall.

Kassandra continued to gaze into the hallway long after Maddy was gone, then she turned back to them, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Amanda glanced to the hallway where Maddy disappeared and then back to Kassandra. "She's beautiful."

Kassandra smiled, a genuine smile that spread over her entire face and reached her eyes. "Thank you. She's my bit of happiness in the world." She looked down at her hands clasped in her lap and then back up to them. "Before he went to prison, my brother would stop by to visit. Not often, but even once was too much. It used to terrify me, the thought of him around my little girl."

"Why didn't you tell him to stay away," Fin questioned.

She paused and took a deep breath, a haunted look in her eyes. "Because you don't tell Archer no." She shifted in the chair, uncrossing her legs and putting her feet to the ground, leaning forward. "My brother can be the most likeable man in the world if he wants to be. He has this ability to fool people, to change himself, he can be anything he wants to be. Most people didn't see the monster inside of him. But I did. I grew up with him, I knew he was different. He wasn't like my cousins or the neighbor boys - they were mean like all kids can be, but they weren't cruel the way he was. My mom always thought he would change, that he just needed more love." Kassandra shook her head. "But he only got worse as he got older. He stole from the neighbors, tormented the kids at school, me, hit my mom. It wasn't until high school, though, that I really started to understand what my big brother was."

"What happened in high school," Fin asked.

"When he was a senior, Archer was accused of raping a girl," she answered solemnly, closing her eyes. "It was bad."

Fin and Amanda turned to each other, a perplexed look passing between them.

"Was he arrested," Amanda asked.

"No. The girl was into drugs, she ran with a rough crowd, she was an easy target. And one of Archer's friends, his only friend really, swore that Archer was with him at the time of the rape. His dad was a cop. I think he assumed if Archer did it, his son was involved, too, so he made it all go away."

Kassandra sighed and looked down at her hands. "He did it, I know he did, even then I knew. If only he'd been caught..."

There was an uncomfortable silence, Kassandra seemed to be in her own world. Fin decided to shake her from it. "He must've threatened his friend to get him to lie."

"I thought so. In some way I would've understood that. He was a shy, quiet 18-year-old kid and Archer could be...persuasive." She paused. "But years later he's a big shot in real estate with his own company, not some scared kid, and he gives Archer a job. Why would he do that?"

Fin and Amanda glanced to each other, eyes wide, eye brows raised. Fin turned back to Kassandra. "What kind of job did he give Archer?"

She raised her shoulders and shook her head, "Some kind of manager at one of his properties."

"The apartment complex he was living in?"

Kassandra nodded. "Yeah, I think that was it."

"Kassandra, what's this friend's name," Amanda asked.

"Simon. Simon Casey."

"Do you know anything else about Simon?"

"No, I moved away from there years ago. I only know what Archer told me when he came here and that wasn't much."

"Ok." Amanda looked to Fin and then stood and reached her hand out to Kassandra. "We appreciate you taking the time to talk to us."

"You're welcome." Kassandra got out of the chair and took Amanda's hand. "I'm sorry I couldn't help you."

"You did," Amanda assured her, "more than you know."

Fin gave her a card and added, "If you think of anything else, please call us."

Kassandra took the card and offered a small nod.

Fin followed Amanda out the door onto the porch where she spun around to face him. "Simon Casey. This could be something." She felt something akin to hope for the first time in days. Her gut instinct said this was what they'd been waiting for, still, the sense of urgency and desperation remained. Kassandra had given them a lead, but it would take time. Meanwhile, somewhere out there Olivia and Zara were alone with William Lewis. She shuddered at the thought. Time was something they definitely didn't have. They would have to move faster, be better, smarter. They couldn't leave Olivia alone to fight her way out of this nightmare as she had last time, they had to help her. They had to.

* * *

><p>"That was Fin," Nick spun away from his desk, glancing around the room. "They've got something."<p>

Brian, Alicia and Cragen gathered around Nick's desk, anticipation of the news clear in their posture and their faces.

"Kassandra Archer told them that her brother was accused of rape when he was in high school. Now he was never arrested because a friend of his, this Simon Casey, alibied him. Simon's dad was a cop, he made the whole thing disappear."

"That's something," Brian asked sarcastically.

"I'm not done," Nick shot back, holding up his hand. "Remember in his employment history, it said he managed an apartment building? Archer was working for Simon."

They all stared at him blankly, clearly failing to see what he saw in this information.

He sighed in frustration. "Alicia what was the name of the company that Archer was working for when he was arrested?"

Alicia grabbed Archer's file from the desk and began flipping through it. She put her finger on a sheet of paper and looked up at him, "Blue Skies Management Corp based in Troy."

"Troy, that's not too far from where Archer was arrested, right," Brian asked, looking to Alicia.

"Right, it can't be much more than an hour."

Nick listened to their exchange and then his fingers began moving across the keyboard. They all moved closer to him, watching him work, listening to the click of the keys underneath his fingers. He came to a webpage for Blue Skies Management Corp and began silently reading the company profile.

"There," Nick exclaimed, "Blue Skies Management Corp is a subsidiary of CMD, Casey Masterson Development, specializing in the development of exceptional residential communities..." His voice trailed off as he stopped reading, turning to the three surrounding his desk.

"Not just apartments, CMD is into real estate. Property," he said, pointing to the screen. "Archer may not have owned any, but he has a friend who specializes in it."

"That's good," Cragen agreed. "We need to talk to Mr. Casey. What else do we know about him?"

"Nothing so far."

"Ok, Nick I want you to go to Troy, talk to Casey, find out how deep that friendship runs."

"I'm going," Brian stated, no hint of a question in his voice.

"Brian, you're family, you know I won't object, but that's between you and Lieutenant Tucker."

"Yeah and I already told Tucker what he could do if he didn't like it. I couldn't go back to work if my job depended on it. It's Liv out there, job, no job, the only thing that matters right now is her."

Cragen's mouth turned up into a small smile at this.

"You're not leaving me here," Alicia interjected. "Why don't I make some phone calls and see if I can get us some space at headquarters up there. It's in Lawson, not too far from Troy."

"That'd be great." Nick turned to the Captain again. "What about Fin and Rollins?"

"I'm keeping them behind for now. They'll be taking another run at Mr. Archer. He's requested SVU's presence, says he wants to talk."

"Talk? Right," Nick scoffed. "Why not me? I was there for the initial interview."

"Because if we have any hope of getting him to talk he has to be alive to do it." Cragen gave him a stern, knowing look. "Besides, you have a lead to follow in Troy."

"He won't talk, Captain. He's playing us. He gets off on it."

"You're probably right," Cragen agreed, shoving his hands into his pockets. "But we're going to follow-up on it anyway. We don't have a choice."

Nick dropped his head and stared at the floor, all too aware of the seriousness and urgency implied in his words.

Cragen took a step closer to Nick and put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, we're going to find them."

Nick cleared his throat and glanced up at him, "Yeah, I know."

"By the way, I spoke with Munch. He's out in Vegas tracking down a witness for the DA's office. He wanted me to tell you to hang in there." Cragen whipped around and pointed at Brian. "Both of you. He's hoping to be back soon."

Nick's mouth turned up into a small smile in spite of himself and he nodded to Cragen in acknowledgement of this.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and pointed to it, "I'm gonna call Maria really quick, let her know what's going on."

Nick walked to the break room and dropped down wearily onto one of the beds, putting his head in his hands. He considered what he'd tell Maria, certain no matter what he said, it would sound like they were accomplishing nothing. Sometimes it felt like it, digging through Archer's life, unraveling the threads of his past hoping to find some obscure piece of information that would lead them to Olivia and Zara. He just wanted something solid. A witness, video, anything that could be traced directly back to Lewis. But if they hadn't gotten anything this far into the search, he had no hope they ever would and that meant Archer was all they had and they'd better be right about it.

They were losing valuable time. He tried not to think of what that meant for Olivia and Zara, but he couldn't stop himself. They would waste hours driving, with nothing but hope they would find something at the end of the day and in that time Olivia and Zara would be suffering. _If they're still alive._ He shook the thought from his head as soon as it entered. They were alive, they had to be. And though the words had offered him no comfort at the time, he found a small measure of it when he remembered Alicia's earlier declaration.

_Everything he did and said was designed to break her down. The longer she holds out now, the longer they have._

Nick thought she was right. Lewis wasn't in it for the kill, he'd proven that by leaving a number of his victims alive. Lewis would kill them, Nick was sure of that, but not before he'd gotten what he wanted. He tried not to think about what it would take to break someone as strong as Olivia, he didn't want those images in his head. But they formed before his eyes anyway, horrifying, devastating pictures of violence that took the air out of him as if he'd been punched in the stomach. He stood and paced the room, looking up to the ceiling, emotion gripping his throat. It was maddening to feel so completely inadequate. They were depending on him and he was failing them. His phone lit up when he touched the keys and he was met with the picture of Olivia, Zara and himself at the zoo, the one Olivia had sent to him on a promise to Zara. He looked back and forth between their smiling faces, Alicia's words still rolling around in his head, and he found himself whispering to them, saying the words he wished they could hear, the words he knew they needed to hear. "Please hold on. I'm coming."

* * *

><p>Olivia lay on her side across the mattress where Lewis discarded her, eyes open, staring with no real direction into the dark room around her. He'd secured the chain around her ankle and then climbed the ladder, leaving her alone, the sound of her ragged breaths the only sign of life in the room. A shiver ran through her and she curled further into herself, trying to escape the cold that enveloped her body. She cradled her injured left hand against her chest, feeling it throb in a rhythm that matched her heartbeat. The bleeding seemed to have slowed, but still trickled from the wound, dripping onto her shirt, her arm, the mattress. It occurred to her that she should get up and find something to tie around it, but she couldn't summon the will. Every bit of her ached, from her head to her feet, her heart most of all and she was tired. So tired.<p>

She lay that way for what felt like a lifetime...transfixed by the dark, unmoving, silent while a storm raged inside her head. The more she tried not to think, the more she did, and her thoughts were like poison, slowly killing her from the inside out.

The door slammed above and she lifted her head off the mattress, adrenaline rushing into her veins, her system on alert, waiting to hear his footsteps on the ladder. But a moment later she heard the door again and she realized it hadn't been the door above the ladder, but the cabin door. Olivia sighed in relief and closed her eyes, her head dropping to rest against her arm. Lewis wasn't coming for her now, but he would. It was inevitable, like the rise of the sun. How many more times would he come for her? How long did she have before he got tired of this game and ended her life? Until you beg for death_,_ a voice inside whispered. No, she answered resolutely, I won't give him that. No matter what, I won't.

She dug an elbow into the mattress and pushed herself up. Her head spun and she braced herself for a few seconds, letting the feeling dissipate before crawling onto the concrete floor. She stopped intermittently, using her good hand to survey the area in front of her, searching for the pile of what remained of her clothes. Finally her fingers met the soft fabric tatters of them and she began sifting through the pile, intent on finding a strip of her shirt that she could tie around her hand.

Olivia tossed scraps aside, a piece of her pants, then another. She was surprised when she felt metal against her fingers and pulled her hand back. Curious, she reached out again, grasping the object and realizing what it was as she did. It was her bra, or at least part of it. Lewis had cut it in a way that exposed the underwire. She briefly considered whether the wire could be used as some kind of weapon, but quickly realized it was a ridiculous idea. Then something else occurred to her. The padlock holding the chain around her ankle. Wire might be a useless weapon, but it might be useful lock picking tool. Something akin to hope started to build within her once more. Why hadn't she considered this? It'd never occurred to her that she had a potential tool of escape sitting right there in front of her all along. She set that half of the bra aside and began searching for the other half. She picked up a strip of soft cotton that had to have been her shirt and wrapped it around her left hand, tying it as tight as she could manage with one hand and her mouth. She resumed her search of the pile, feeling for the other half of her bra, picking up scraps of her clothes and discarding them again. When she didn't find it, she extended her search beyond the pile, waving her hand along the floor around the perimeter until finally, she felt it. A hurried inspection revealed that this half, however, had no exposed wire. She put it down by her side and then picked up the other piece, attempting to grasp it with her left hand, but finding that feat to be nearly impossible. Instead she positioned it so she was holding it clumsily between her damaged hand and her body and she began pulling on the underwire, inching it out slowly. After a few minutes of effort, she was finally able to pull the last few inches of the wire free of the material.

She held the wire in her hand, moving her fingers along the length of it. It was firm and she thought it might serve the purpose she had in mind. She reached down to the padlock at her ankle and stuck the wire inside. It slid perfectly into the keyhole. She jiggled it against the pins and found it to be strong enough that it would move them. But there was one problem. She would need something else to put in at the same time to turn the lock when all the pins were displaced. She felt by her side for the other piece of her bra and picked it up, searching once more for an opening, but finding none. She tore at the material, pushed on the wire, anything she could do to rip the fabric and get the wire free, but nothing worked. Her stomach dropped. There was no way she could get the padlock open without the second piece.

Hope was a fleeting thing. For the second time in a matter of hours she'd thought escape was within reach and once again she crashed back down to earth, more hopeless and devastated than before. In a swift motion she raised her arm and threw the remnant of the bra where she knew the wall was, the lack of sound upon impact unsatisfying for her level of frustration.

Olivia sat, legs crossed, on the floor with her arms on her thighs and her chin to her chest, a tempest of thoughts, fears and memories thundering in her head. She was in turmoil, confused, lost in the maze of her own mind, searching for a way out, but finding a dead-end at every turn. It was disquieting to feel like a stranger in her own head, like she didn't know who she was anymore. But those hours spent with Lewis had shaken her. There were cracks in her foundation and they were spreading, faltering beneath the weight of everything she'd endured.

The image of Lewis staring down at her, laughing flashed in her mind and she heard his words echoing in her head. _"Imagine if your squad could see you now. Not so tough anymore, are you Sergeant?"_

She shoved her face into her hands at the memory. _I gave in. God help me, I gave in like he said I would._

Olivia lifted her head and stared into the darkness, wiping preëmptively at her eyes. Somewhere deep down she knew she'd done what she needed to do to survive. Lewis had already raped and tortured her violently for hours, he would've continued as long as it took just to prove a point...she'd still be upstairs, pinned to the floor, both of her hands useless, enduring God only knew what. What kind of condition would she be in then? Would she even survive, let alone be in any shape to fight, to escape? Though she knew all of this to be true, it didn't change the way she felt inside - shame at having given in, weak, empty. She'd fought so hard since the beginning, determined not to let Lewis break her. But in that moment, it felt like he'd done just that.

"I'm not broken," she said quietly to herself. "He will not break me." It sounded more like reassurance than a statement of fact. Uncertainty had crept into her heart, her confidence in herself, in everything, so thoroughly shaken it was a fight to believe in anything but pain and sorrow, the constants in her life now. But she had to believe, because if she didn't, she may as well just lay down and die. And she couldn't do that. She'd made a promise that Zara's death would not be meaningless and if she gave up, it would be.

Olivia picked up the piece of wire and got on her hands and knees, crawling to the wall, searching the floor in front of her until her hand came into contact with the part of her bra she'd thrown. She settled her back against the concrete and ran her fingers along the entirety of the material again. This time, the task that lay in front of her didn't seem quite as hopeless. It would just take time and time was all she had. Her hands went to work, her left barely managing to grasp the material while the right pushed and pulled at the wire within, attempting to force it through the surrounding fabric. It was soothing to her troubled mind, having purpose, something to do, a ray of hope, dim as it was. She continued to work mindlessly, listening to the sounds coming from above, fighting to keep her memories at bay, all the while repeating the reassurance she'd offered herself over and over in her head. _I'm not broken. He will not break me._

* * *

><p>Writing for Olivia this chapter was difficult. It's hard to step outside of the comfort zone of writing her as defiant and unbreakable, but I think it's necessary for the sake of realism. In the end, though, she is Olivia and she'll never truly stop fighting.<p> 


	13. Chapter 13

First...I'm sorry. I know this took forever. There were a lot of reasons for that. I have had no luck with this chapter at all and I blame that on the fact that it's the 13th chapter. Needless to say, any future fanfics will end before chapter 13. If you are on twitter you probably know that I lost half of this chapter Monday night and had to rewrite from memory in the middle of the night. So if this one is rough...go easy on me. I went through hell writing it. lol I don't really have anything to say about this one. It started as one thing, then became something entirely different. I'm gonna do my best to be faster on updates, but that may not be possible until after September. Warnings and lots of them...violence, torture, rape. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

><p>It was cold. Much colder than it'd ever been before. Even beneath the cover of her coat, which she'd found and thrown over her legs, she could still find no semblance of warmth. It sunk deep into her body, into her bones and they ached, everything ached. The skin on her arm rose into tiny bumps, her body shivered and her hands...they trembled constantly. She closed her eyes against the throbbing in her head, focused on trying to steady those trembling hands, but it was impossible. She had bigger battles to fight anyway - to breathe, to move, to think, to stay awake. Sleep beckoned to her...she resisted it's inviting embrace every second, but she could feel herself slowly slipping into the depths of it's comfort.<p>

Olivia pushed aside the fabric that was tied around her hand, checking once more on the wound beneath it, finding no new blood. She breathed out a sigh of relief, dropping her head back gently against the concrete wall, staring into nothing but empty black space. It'd been quiet for a while, no footsteps, no banging, no doors, just silence. It was nice to have that peace, not analyzing every sound as if it might be the one that signaled that Lewis was coming back. But the silence was also dangerous because the only thing she could hear was a voice inside her head and it repeated the same words over and over again. _I'm so tired. _It was a hypnotic chant that lulled her to surrender.

Her head dropped to her chest, her eyes heavy, fluttering against her body's desperate want of sleep. Just for a second, she thought, letting her eyes give in to the irresistible pull that weighed on them. It was a relief to finally give in, to let her eyes close, a short respite against the insurmountable pressure she'd been fighting. She knew she needed to open them again, but now that they were closed, she found she lacked the energy to lift her heavy eyelids. _Just a little longer._ But there was no sense of time in the space between awake and sleep and she drifted farther into the darkness, her senses seeming to extinguish all at once.

Her body was jolted when she heard a slam above. Her head snapped up, her sleepy eyes giving way to alarm. She listened to Lewis move above, her heart rate beginning to slow as she realized he was not coming back. At least not yet. She let out a shaky breath and put her head down on her knees.

"Keep your eyes open," she scolded herself.

Olivia reached down to her side and picked up the pieces of wire, the second piece having finally been removed from her bra. Much to her surprise, removing the second piece of wire had not been the hard part. She'd created enough wear and tear on the fabric finally that she was able to inch the wire out the same way she'd pushed the first piece out. However, her good luck had ended there. Picking the lock was another matter. One she'd thought was going to be easier after her previous attempt. She'd come to the conclusion some time ago that she hadn't been nearly as close to escape as she'd thought she was. And now she was attempting to do it with her left hand barely able to hold the wire.

She inhaled deeply, tightening her grip on the two pieces of wire, reinserting them into the keyhole. She held one piece against the top of the lock, jiggling it against the pins and the other piece she held at the bottom, applying tension. It was an amateur attempt, she knew, but the more she did it the more she started to understand the lock and what her movements were doing to it. The pins gave way beneath her pressure, one, then another, but the unsteady grip of her left hand faltered and the the wire dropped to the floor, making the faintest sound upon contact with the concrete. Olivia wrenched the other piece of wire free of the padlock in frustration and smacked it onto the ground, folding her arms across her knees and putting her head back against the wall. The damage to her hand was devastating, painful and left her able to use only a few fingers. She was starting to think this would never work, that all of her effort was in vain. But as soon as the thought entered her mind she shook her head, refusing to accept it. She reached down to her side and picked up the wire again, ready to continue working on the lock.

The door creaked above and she froze in panic and fear. She squeezed the pieces of wire in her hand, listening to his footsteps echo out of the dark. She shoved the pieces of wire into her coat pocket and pulled it tighter around her legs, wrapping her arms around them. The light came on and she squinted against the brightness, holding a hand to her pounding head, vaguely aware that he was across the room, arms at his sides, staring.

"You miss me?"

She lifted her eyes to meet his, leveling him with the most steely glare she could muster, but offering no response.

"I missed you." He slowly walked across the room, the black handled knife in hand. Her body tensed as he stopped in front of her, bending so he was eye level, his mouth turned up into a half-smirk. "Especially your mouth." He put the tip of the knife to her lips and traced them lightly.

Olivia turned her head away, a look of disgust twisting her features.

Lewis reached for her left hand, squeezing tightly as she attempted to pull it free of his grasp. He pulled the piece of fabric from her hand and held it flat so he could examine it.

"The bleeding stopped," he observed, lifting his eyes to her wide, fearful eyes. Her hand trembled in his, but she couldn't be sure if it was the cold or fear. He probed the area around the wound with his fingers and she flinched as each touch sent pain shooting through her hand.

"We could still burn it, just to be safe."

"No." Her voice was weak, gravely.

He let her pull her hand away, pushing himself to his feet, shoving the knife into his pocket. "Ok. There are plenty of other things we can do." He let his eyes travel from hers to the mattress and she followed his gaze, a familiar dread rising within her.

"What do you think," he asked, holding his hands out, moving them up and down alternately. "Go upstairs? Stay down here?" He continued shifting his hands up and down, delighted at the promise of either and the look of fear on her face as he weighed these options.

He kept one hand out, palm up, a malicious light in his eyes. "Here." It was a statement this time, not a question. "Get on the mattress and take the shirt off."

She didn't move. Her eyes flickered to the mattress and then ventured unconsciously to her coat in her lap, a regretful sadness in them. A whisper of a promise unfulfilled.

"Do you really want to play this game again?"

He reached down and grabbed her arms, pulling her to her feet, the coat falling from her legs onto the ground. He wrapped his arms around her body when she started to fight him.

"Is that all you've got," he asked, mouth pressed against her ear. "Are you even trying to stop me anymore? I think you want this."

"The only thing I want is to see you dead," she said with as much venom as she could summon, attempting to push his arms away from her. But the more she fought, the more light-headed she felt and her head pounded so violently that it vibrated through her entire body. She abandoned the struggle against him and closed her eyes amidst the throbbing in her head, a small moan of pain escaping her lips.

Lewis dragged her onto the mattress, throwing her down on it, watching her attempt to get up. He kicked her back down as soon as she'd made it to her knees.

"What's the matter sweetheart," he asked with mock sympathy. "Not feeling good?"

Olivia stayed down this time, clutching at her head.

"Yeah, it's been awhile since you had water. Dehydration...that'll mess you up." He shook his head for emphasis.

She squeezed her eyes shut and cringed in pain before opening them again. She glanced up at Lewis. He was leaning down to pick up her coat. He brought it to his nose, inhaling the scent, then holding it out, showing it to her.

"Looks like I forgot something." He pulled the knife from his pocket and stuck it into the coat, pulling it up the middle.

"Take off the shirt or I'll cut it if off and then you'll have nothing left."

Her heart rate quickened, adrenaline coursed through her system. He was destroying it the way he'd destroyed the rest of her clothes and it wouldn't have mattered, except the longer he held it, the more convinced she became that he would reach into those pockets or that somehow the pieces of wire would fall out and he'd know what she'd done, what she was doing. If that happened, any chance she had of escape would be gone and that was unacceptable. She didn't know if she could survive without that hope. Her instincts said to distract him and she knew how to do that.

"No," she said defiantly. Her tone was loud, confident and left no question that she had just challenged him, dared him to make her do it.

He stopped what he was doing and narrowed his eyes at her. "Ok," he said, with barely concealed rage. He threw her coat down to the floor and tossed the knife across the room. "You want it rough, I can do that."

The relief she felt as he dropped the coat was short-lived. He started at her, footsteps thundering. She pushed herself to her feet in time to be spun around, his fist flying toward her face. But she knew it would be, she'd been caught off guard by him enough times to know that it was coming and even in her weakened state, she somehow managed to avoid the blow. Her instincts kicked in and she stepped toward him, bringing her knee up between his legs. She made contact and he fell to floor while her momentum carried her forward onto her hands and knees. Olivia glanced over at him, he was still struggling to get to his feet and she could see the gun tucked into waistband of his jeans behind his back. Her heart was racing way too fast, her head pounding so hard she felt nauseous, but somehow none of that mattered. All she could see was the gun. She pushed herself up and started toward him, her fingers skimming the ground as she stumbled forward. But she was too slow. He saw her coming and pushed himself to his feet, turning so the gun was out of reach. She was left unsteady, her momentum carrying her into his grasp. He grabbed her wrists and held her face to face, his eyes burning with fury. He threw her down onto the mattress where she landed on her stomach. His foot crashed into her ribs, stealing her breath, flipping her over onto her back. He straddled her body, a knee on either side of her, ensuring she couldn't move.

"That was stupid, Olivia," he growled. "Even for you." He grabbed her wrists, able to hold them both down above her head with only one hand, using the other to put his hand around her throat, squeezing, leaving her gasping for breaths that she couldn't get, her eyes wide, terrified. Black spots danced in front of her eyes, her lungs burned, her head felt like it would explode. Her vision started to narrow, the room around her faded away and all she could see was his face. Eyes hard, jaw clenched, full of rage. _He's killing me._ Her movement ceased, his face disappeared and her world went black.

* * *

><p>"I hate places like this."<p>

Nick turned to look at him and then looked at the room around them.

"Not a fan of white?"

Brian shook his head. "And the glass. Who needs to see what everyone else is doing in their office? And that guy...look at him." He pointed to the office in front of them, the office of the man they were there to see. "He knows we're out here and he's still in there playing on his computer. Asshole." He muttered the last word under his breath.

"Yeah, but we need his help so you're gonna have to tone that down," Nick said watching the man open his desk drawer.

"You think I don't know that? I've been doing this longer than you have Amaro."

Nick let out an exasperated sigh. "Look, Cassidy, I'm not trying to start anything. I'm just saying this is all we've got."

Brian closed his eyes and dropped his head onto his thumbs and finger tips. "Yeah, I know, I just...this is frustrating." He motioned to the office again. "They're out there and every second we sit here is another second we're not finding them."

"Trust me, I get it," Nick agreed. "I've been doing the same thing. It drives you crazy."

"You know what I keep coming back to? What kills me?" Brian turned his head to look at Nick. "He was in our apartment waiting for her while I was there."

Nick shook his head staring straight ahead. "There's no way you could've known."

"Why didn't he come at me? If he had maybe..."

"Maybe you'd be dead," Nick interjected.

"Or maybe he would be," Brian countered. "Either way, maybe Liv wouldn't be out there with him right now."

"But Zara would be." Nick's eyes dropped to the tile floor. "If you'd killed him, what would've happened to her? What is happening to her, to both of them?"

Brian's face was somber, no answer offered because none was needed.

"Wait, look, here he comes." Brian motioned to the slight man pushing through the glass door ahead of them. They stood to meet him.

"Good morning gentleman," he greeted them, extending his hand first to Brian, then to Nick. "What can I do for you?"

"Mr. Casey, I'm Detective Amaro with the NYPD. This is Detective Cassidy."

"Please call me Simon."

"Simon, we wanted to ask you some questions about a man who used to work for you, Tennell Archer."

The corners of Simon's mouth turned down, his eyes scanned the lobby warily. "Please join me in my office." He turned and held his office door open for them, motioning for them to sit at the two seats across from his desk. He dropped down wearily into his own chair.

Brian scanned the room, noting an abundance of awards hanging on the walls, a small model home on a table in the corner and on his desk, a picture of two children, a girl and a boy.

"Cute kids," Brian said genuinely.

"Thanks," Simon replied with a smile. "Not so cute anymore. At least not when they're talking back, which is most of the time." He chuckled and then glanced back a forth between them. "What's this about?"

"It's complicated. Archer's cellmate, a man named William Lewis, escaped custody and kidnapped two people," Nick explained. "We're looking for him...them."

"And you think Archer had something to do with this?"

"No, but we believe he knows where Lewis is holding them hostage."

"Did you talk to Archer?"

"We did," Nick affirmed, remembering the visit to the prison. "Let's just say he was less than helpful."

Simon nodded his head as if he expected this answer. "And that's where I come in?"

"Exactly." Nick nodded his head once.

"Well, I'm not sure how I can help you, but I'll certainly do whatever I can."

"How well did you know Archer," Brian asked immediately.

"About as well as I know all of my employees I guess," Simon answered.

Brian narrowed his eyes at Simon. "But you knew him before he went to work for you, right?"

Simon seemed taken aback by this. "Yes, I did. But that was a long time ago."

Nick glanced at Brian and back to Simon. "We talked to Archer's sister, Kassandra. She mentioned you two are friends."

Simon tilted his head back, his mouth forming a silent 'Ah' as he processed this. "That was high school. I gave him a job, we had an occasional beer, but that's it."

"It must've been a shock when he was arrested," Brian continued.

"It was," Simon agreed. "As you've pointed out, I've known him off and on for years now and I never would've thought he was capable of such a thing."

Brian leaned back in his chair, fixing Simon with a scrutinizing look. "Not even after he was accused of rape all those years ago? You told the police he was with you, right?"

Simon brought his hands together in front of him, the picture of calm and reason. "Yes, I did and he was. He didn't do that. I realize how that sounds given his arrest, but it didn't happen. I wouldn't have hired him if it had."

Brian looked as if he was going to continue, but Nick eyed him surreptitiously and held up a placating hand to Simon.

"Ok, look, we know Archer didn't own any property, so we thought maybe it could be one of your properties," Nick explained. "Was Archer a part of any of your other projects besides the apartment complex?"

"No, none. That was his only job and he liked it. It was a free place to live and he only had to work when there was a problem, which was rare. It's a nice place, we bought it and remodeled. Now we can charge twice what they were asking before."

"So he's never been to any of your other sites," Brian interjected.

"As far as I know, he's never been to any of our development sites."

"Ok," Nick paused. "How about this - do you have any remote, isolated properties? Forest land maybe? Did you have any while Archer was working for you?"

Simon dropped his eyes to the picture on his desk, a finger at his temple in contemplation and then lifted his gaze to meet theirs again. "No, I can't think of any. We build houses and condos in picturesque suburban neighborhoods. Remote forest land doesn't really fit into our working model."

Nick sighed and nodded his head. "Just the same, would you be willing to give us copies of your records for the time period that Archer worked for you?"

Simon rubbed at the faint beard on his chin. "Sure, I can do that. I'll have my secretary get to work on that as soon as possible."

"Thank you. We appreciate it." Nick got up out of the chair and Brian did the same.

"Kipling's," Simon said.

Brian and Nick looked at him in confusion. "What," Brian asked.

"As I said, Archer and I had the occasional beer at this bar...Kipling's. A couple of times there was this other guy who hung around that Archer seemed to know, Caleb something. I don't know him, I don't know where he lives, but someone at Kipling's might. You were asking about a place in the forest...this guy was a hunter. Maybe he has a place."

"Thanks." Nick retrieved his phone from his pocket and held it out to Simon. "This is the man we're looking for, William Lewis."

Simon studied the picture intently.

"If you see him or this woman and this little girl," Nick flipped through pictures of Olivia and Zara, "please call us." He handed Simon a card.

"Of course." Simon looked down at the card in his hand. "And I'll have my secretary get you those records you asked for."

Simon extended his hand to Nick, then Brian and they walked out of his office, into the lobby and outside under a grey sky, Nick with his phone to his ear.

"I don't like that guy," Brian started. "Do you buy that..."

Brian stopped mid-sentence turning to Nick who'd stopped walking, a look of distress on his face. "What's wrong?"

Nick stared down at the phone in his hand. "There's a complication with my mom. She has an infection."

"Sorry man. It's got to be tough not being there."

"Yeah." Nick walked to the driver side door of the car and got in, while Brian went to the passenger side. Brian lifted his eyes to the clouds. It looked like rain. It'd rained the night Olivia disappeared. Brian got in the car and slammed the door shut.

_I hate rain._

* * *

><p>Her body jerked awake at the sensation of something cold and wet on her face. Disoriented, confused, she tried to bring her hand up to wipe the wetness from her face, but she couldn't move. Her eyes snapped open, alert, head tilting backward to find her hands cuffed and restrained to the rings in the wall. She looked down to her feet finding them similarly restrained. She dropped her head back against the mattress and closed her eyes.<p>

"There she is."

It was Lewis' voice and there was an edge of danger to it. She opened her eyes hesitantly, searching for him, terrified of what she would see in his face. He was leaning against the wall, a cigarette between his lips, a bottle of what appeared to be water in his hand which she assumed was the source of wetness on her face. He must've been trying to wake her up. That thought left her uneasy.

He pushed away from the wall, moving to stand in front of her. He took the cigarette from his mouth and exhaled a cloud of grey smoke. "Apparently you've forgotten already what happened the last time you decided you wanted to do things the hard way." He dropped the water to the ground. She flinched at the sound of the bottle smacking against the concrete.

"But that's ok," he told her. "I can remind you."

He leaned over her, staring into her eyes. "I'll make sure it's memorable this time."

"I know it was a mistake," she croaked, the soreness in her throat allowing her barely more than a whisper. "You don't have to do this."

He appeared to consider her words, inclining his head, brows furrowed. "But I want to."

Lewis picked the knife up off the floor and kneeled over her body, a leg on either side. He put the knife to her throat, then moved it to the collar of her shirt, slicing the material down the middle. Olivia watched him, helpless, pulling at the restraints reflexively. He stopped and leered at her exposed flesh, putting the knife to one of her breasts. He glanced up at her, his face alight with sadistic glee and then he began cutting again. She lifted her eyes to the ceiling, flinching with each exaggerated cut of her shirt, until finally he stopped and ripped it the rest of the way, leaving her fully exposed to him. He cut the shirt at each arm for good measure so it no longer clung to her body. He grasped her chin in his hand, forcing her to meet his eyes, reveling in what he saw in them.

"I think you're afraid of me," he said, repeating the words she'd once taunted him with.

He took a final drag from his cigarette, blowing the smoke in her direction, the acrid smell of it reaching her nostrils, evoking memories of things she desperately wanted to forget. He held the cigarette over her breast, hovering just millimeters away from her flesh. She could feel the heat of it against her skin, a promise of pain that she knew all too well and she braced herself for it. That pain became a reality a second later when he pushed the cigarette down into her skin, holding it there until it burnt out. Olivia gritted her teeth against the intense burning, her fists clenched, waiting for the searing pain to subside. She exhaled a shaky breath and he laughed.

"I'm guessing that won't last long," he said, amused at her attempt to endure in silence.

He moved off her body and dropped the knife, picking up the bottle of water. He waved it back and forth as he settled down beside her.

"But first, you need this, don't you? We can't have you dying of dehydration."

He uncapped the bottle and moved it to her lips, but she turned her head away.

"What? You think I drugged it? I think we both know I'm not subtle," he laughed. "If I wanted to drug you, I'd shove the pills down your throat myself."

He put the bottle to her lips again. "Come on," he urged. She opened her mouth, letting him pour the water into her raw, dry throat. In that moment it didn't matter anymore what his motive was. It was water and she needed it badly. She drank eagerly, every bit she took in breathing new life into her mind and body. She watched him as he tilted the bottle, a hint of something behind his eyes that made her wary. She took a few more gulps of water, savoring the feel of it. And then his hand closed off her nose, the bottle held firmly in her mouth, drowning her in water. It was too much, too fast, she couldn't breathe. She sputtered the water back up in an attempt to take a breath while he kept forcing more down her throat. Her body was wracked by violent coughs and he finally took the bottle away from her, watching with satisfaction as she cried out in pain at each cough that moved her body.

"Broken ribs. I've had a couple of those...thanks to you," he said, running his fingers along her rib cage. "Hurts like hell to cough, doesn't it?"

He probed her ribs every couple of centimeters, slowly, methodically until she choked out a broken, anguished cry when his fingers pushed at her lower ribs none to gently.

"There it is." He grabbed the bottle of water again and held it up to her. "More water?"

Olivia shook her head, lips pressed together, breathing through her nose. He ignored her unvoiced response and put the bottle to her lips again.

"Open up," he demanded. When she didn't comply, he put his hand back against her ribs and pushed in, eliciting another raspy, pained scream. He put the bottle back to her mouth and repeated his earlier action. This time when he took the bottle away from her lips, he put his hand over her mouth, watching her struggle to cough the water back up, to breathe. Just when she thought she would pass out again, he took his hand away allowing her to gasp for air. He pushed himself to his feet and poured the rest of the water onto her already shaking body, but she barely noticed. She was still coughing up water, a slight rattle in her breaths, registering nothing but the agony of her ribs.

He tossed the bottle across the floor and the clatter echoed through the room. He knelt beside her body again running his fingers over the burns on her legs.

"We're kinda short on fire down here," he said, pulling a pack of cigarettes and a black lighter from his pocket, setting them on the ground beside him. "We'll save those for later. Besides there are other things we can have fun with."

He reached for the knife and held it out for her to see. "Like this." Light glinted off the silver blade. She was transfixed by it, unable to look away.

He stared down at her body, searching, for what, she wasn't sure. Maybe weakness. He needn't look too far. It was everywhere.

He put the knife to the key-shaped burn on her leg, inflicted on her the first time he'd tortured her in front of the fire. "I think I can do better than that." He dug the point into the wound, drawing blood. "Who needs fire, right?"

Lewis positioned himself so he was kneeling beside her head. He grabbed her right arm and put the point of the knife to it, making a long diagonal cut with an unexpected amount of pressure. Olivia pressed her lips together, stifling the scream that climbed into her throat, pulling at her restraints, moving any way she could to get away from the knife. He repositioned the blade at her arm and slowly made another diagonal cut, squeezing her arm tighter as her struggles increased. This time, there was no stifling the hoarse scream that left her lips.

"Enough," he yelled, taking the knife away from her arm and holding it against her cheek. There was blood on it, her blood, she could feel the warm, sticky substance on her face in contrast with cold metal. "Move again and I'll start cutting things off. Starting with your fingers."

He put the blade back to her arm and continued making long deep cuts. She was crying, but she had no tears, dehydration had robbed her of them. Her body was taut, tension in every muscle, face cringing at each cut praying it would be the last, until finally it was. He took the knife away from her skin and set it down beside him. She tilted her head back, eyes trailing up her arm where blood trickled down her tan skin. Her eyes continued to roam upward, watching him use a piece of her shirt to wipe the blood away from her wounds, what he'd done becoming clear as he did. The cuts were letters. Two letters. WL.

She felt sick. The room around her faded away and all she could see were those letters etched into her skin the way people carved their name into a tree or an object they owned. And that's what she was to him. An object, a body he'd taken possession of and labeled as his to abuse in whatever way he wanted. And she couldn't stop him. Those letters cut deep into her skin proved she couldn't. She turned her head away, unable to look at it any longer, though the stinging in her arm was a constant reminder it was there.

"Remember what I said? I own you," he reminded her. "Now you won't forget, will you?"

She didn't respond. She was still dazed by the image of what he'd done to her arm.

He flipped the knife in his hand, holding it by the blade, using the handle to push against her ribs, a small, surprised cry escaping her.

"Will you?"

"No," she whispered.

"Good."

Her eyes went back to her arm again, watching the blood run, the cuts nearly indistinguishable amidst it all. But she knew what was there and it was an image that she wished she could shake out of her head. She tore her eyes away from it, turning her head to face the wall, staring unfocused into the mass of grey. She registered Lewis' movement at her side, felt the knife at the outside of her thigh and she braced herself for the what she knew must be coming.

But this time the blade was pushed in, not pulled along her skin. She screamed as loud as she could, but it came out as little more than a whisper. Shock flickered in her eyes, her hands clenched, nails digging into her palms. Her eyes automatically went to her thigh where he'd stabbed her and she was horrified to see him holding the knife to her hip, ready to do it again.

"Shhh," he hushed her, putting a finger to her lips. "It's shallow, you'll live."

She shook her head, forming the words to beg him not to do it again, but he pushed the point of the blade in at her hip. She watched it with a sense of disbelief, feeling the remnant of the scream in her throat, rather than hearing it because her mind could process nothing in that moment but the sharp, cold pain of the knife penetrating her leg. Her body trembled, breaths coming out in loud pants. She watched blood run down her leg, creating small pools of dark red on the on the white mattress.

"Stop," she managed to exhale through gasps. "Please."

"Stop? Baby we're just getting started."

At some point amidst the cuts, the stabs, the burns, the prodding of her ribs she lost the ability to recognize and distinguish the pain. It was just there, all-consuming, terrible, inescapable. And she never stopped screaming, even when there was no sound left to be made. Silent screams and tearless cries, that was all that was left of her ability to protest the pain he was inflicting on her body. It seemed there was no end to the things that could be taken away from her.

"Now where else can I put this?"

Olivia's eyes widened as the knife came to rest at her throat. He pushed in threateningly but then moved it away and began trailing it down her body, between her breasts, down her stomach, cutting her in places where he added slight pressure to the blade. He continued pulling the knife down her body until it was between her legs, pressed against her.

"No," she choked out in horror.

"You asked for this."

"Lewis, please don't do this," she begged him. "Please."

He moved the blade to her entrance, pushing it against her with a small amount of pressure. His eyes shone with malevolent delight at her strangled cry.

"I warned you what would happen, didn't I," he asked her, as if he was speaking to a child who'd been bad.

"I'm sorry," she cried. "I'm sorry. Please."

She was sobbing, her shoulders moving with emotion. And she begged. Words fell from her lips and she didn't even know what she was saying. She couldn't think, she couldn't breathe there was only terror as she watched him hold the knife to her, feeling the cold, hard metal that he was going to push inside her.

"You wish that was me now, don't you," he asked her softly, trailing his fingers along her leg.

She nodded her head grudgingly, willing to give him anything if it would stop him from what he was threatening to do.

"I want you to say it," he demanded, pushing the blade against her again.

She dropped her head back against the mattress, squeezing her eyes shut and opening them again. Her sobs were uncontrollable. She breathed as deeply as her ribs would allow, resigned to saying the words that he wanted from her.

"I-I wish it was you," she stammered through her sobs.

"Yeah," he mocked in a high-pitched voice. "Well you shouldn't have kneed me."

He took the knife away from her and for a second her body relaxed, relief washing over her. But that relief was quickly replaced by horror as he turned the knife in his hand, grasping it by the blade, shoving the handle inside her. Her anguished cry died on her lips as he forced his lips down onto hers, breathing in her misery as if it was the most intoxicating thing in the world. He continued to thrust the hilt of the knife into her ruthlessly, intent on causing her as much pain as he could, her continued cries muffled by his lips. He finally tore his mouth from hers, attacking the rest of her body with his lips and teeth.

Olivia tilted her head back, squeezing her eyes shut, grimacing in pain.

"Hey," he called to her. "Open those eyes for me."

She did as he said, the corners of his mouth turning up in satisfaction as she found his cold eyes. He was wielding his power and control over her with no mercy. And the smugness she saw in his face as he stripped her of any remnants of humanity should've made her feel something...anger, sadness, horror, anything. But she seemed to have none of that left. Just a numb sort of acceptance of something that she couldn't fight. Not like this. Lewis pulled the knife out and leaned over her so close she could feel the warmth of his breath on her face.

"That knee, only delayed the inevitable sweetheart. Next time you're gonna get your wish. It'll be me inside you, invading every part of your body."

He stared down at her a moment longer, watching his words wash over her. He pushed himself away and shoved the handle back inside her, starting again. Her face crumpled, eyes scanning the room in a frantic, desperate way as if she could find an end to this nightmare. But she could find none. Misery was the only thing left in the room. In the air, in his voice, in her body... she was drowning in it. Her eyes settled on the black material of her coat splayed out against the grey floor. She thought about the pieces of wire inside, clung to them while her torture went on. Misery. And one tiny shred of hope.

* * *

><p>White walls, fluorescent light, the sound of metal bars sliding, slamming shut. It was an all too familiar walk through the prison hallway to the interview room, yet none of their previous trips had ever been so important or made them so uneasy. They stopped in front of a sliding metal door and waited for it to open, stepping inside the room when it did. The door slammed behind them, the clanging sound hanging in the silence that permeated the room.<p>

"You good?" Fin turned to his partner, gauging her mood.

She offered a small nod. "Yeah, don't worry about me."

"Anything else I need to know about this guy?"

Amanda looked out the window, gazing at the scenery below.

"'Manda."

She jumped unexpectedly and turned to face Fin. "What? Sorry."

"Is there anything else I need to know about Archer?"

Amanda glanced around the room, remembering their last interrogation of Archer, every minute of it replaying in her head. "Sadistic monster just like Lewis. That about covers it."

Fin stared at her expectantly.

Amanda blew out a breath. "I think you've got the gist of him." She paused and then added, "He's gonna bait you...us."

Fin nodded his head in acknowledgment, moving to sit in the chair at the table facing the doorway. They waited, Amanda gazing out the window again, Fin staring through the bars waiting for the man that'd summoned them, letting his eyes drop to the table periodically. Finally there were heavy footsteps accompanied by the shuffle of shoes against the floor and then the click of the metal bars sliding open. Fin lifted his gaze in time to see a guard escorting a tall man in an orange prison suit with a bald head and cold blue eyes. The guard guided the prisoner into the chair across from Fin and removed the handcuffs, glancing from Fin to Amanda.

"He's all yours. I'll be right outside."

"Thank you," Amanda answered.

Fin regarded the man in front of him with indifference, watching Archer first stare curiously back at him before shifting his gaze to Amanda, his eyes lighting up in recognition.

"Where's the other guy, the hothead," he asked Amanda.

"Detective Amaro is out of town following up on a lead," she replied.

A hint of interest flickered in Archer's eyes, but it was gone just as quickly. "That's too bad about Detective Amaro. I had these dreams that I wanted to tell him about," he said seriously. "Really vivid ones about your Sergeant...Benson was it? Yeah, Sergeant Benson."

Archer folded his arms across his chest. "Now I don't put much stock in the supernatural stuff, but do you think these could be psychic dreams? Maybe I should tell you about them," he offered. "They might help. I hear sometimes these things actually happen."

Fin slammed his hand against the table. "Listen you son of a bitch, this isn't a game. If you called us here to waste our time, we'll leave."

Archer turned to Amanda, amused, "Are they all like this?"

Amanda didn't bother responding.

Archer leveled his gaze at Fin. "And who are you?"

"Detective Tutuola, NYPD."

"Detective Tutuola, NYPD," Archer repeated, emphasizing each syllable, nodding his head.

"Archer why are we here," Amanda interrupted. "You made it clear you weren't interested in helping us find Lewis."

"That's not exactly true."

"Ok." Amanda eyed Archer skeptically. "But you want something we can't give you. There's no free pass out of prison."

"Maybe there is." His tone said he knew something they didn't.

Amanda pushed away from the wall and approached the table, stopping at Fin's side. "What're you talking about?"

"I told Will about a place. A place that I used to go and he expressed some interest when I told him about it. Now if you all are so convinced that where he went has something to do with me, then that might be the place."

"So what's the catch," Fin asked, brows furrowed, eyes narrowed.

"I take you there." Archer leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. "And before you say you can't do it, I've done my research, I know you can. Police take murderers to point out where bodies are buried, don't they? Yeah, they do. There's an inmate here who took one of those trips. Now surely if you all can take someone out to find some dead bodies, you can take me out to lead you to some live ones."

Fin and Amanda were both silent, staring at Archer and then at each other.

"We'd need a general location ahead of time," Amanda told him.

"Sure, why don't I just draw you a map? Nice try detective."

"We need something," she insisted. "You could be lying."

"You don't trust me," Archer smirked. "I'm hurt. Ok, I'll give you something...it's north."

"That's not enough," Fin countered.

"That's all you get," Archer told them.

Amanda shook her head. "They'll never go for it."

Archer shrugged nonchalantly in reply. "Well then, I guess your Sergeant and the girl are going to die, aren't they?"

Fin gripped the edge of the table, but kept his voice calm. "Even if we could make it happen, why? You think you're gonna escape like Lewis?"

Archer chuckled softly. "You worried I might, detective?"

"Nah. Just trying to figure out what's in it for you."

"It's really not that difficult. The chance to see something besides bars, eat some real food, the pleasure of your...stimulating company." His eyes went to Amanda offering a chilling smile.

Fin started to lean across the table, but Amanda put a hand on his shoulder and took over.

"And you expect us to believe you would give up Lewis' location for that?"

"You can believe whatever you want. You want my help? That's what it will take."

"It's not our decision to make. We have to go back and run this through the proper channels."

"I'm not going anywhere," he replied, motioning to the bars surrounding them. Archer glanced from Fin to Amanda, a smile pulling at his lips. "I can't make any promises about your Sergeant or that little girl, though."

Fin pushed his chair away from the table and stood, glaring at Archer while calling to the guard behind the sliding door, "We're done with him."

"Don't worry detective, Sergeant Benson's still alive."

Fin turned back toward Archer, perplexed by the sudden shift in his tone.

Archer shrugged and turned his hands up, "Speaking from my own experience...If it was me out there with her, after a year in this place? I'd need weeks."

"Get him out of here," Fin growled to the guard who had begun securing the handcuffs around Archer's wrists.

"It was nice to see you again," Archer said, looking at Amanda. He turned his gaze to Fin as he was led out of the room. "Detective Tutuola."

Fin glanced to Amanda, a knowing look passing between them. "There's no way he's taking us to Lewis."

Amanda shook her head. "Not a chance in hell."

* * *

><p>He'd left her in the dark as he always did. She was glad for it because it was easier to forget what she couldn't see and there were so many things that she needed to forget. It was the sound of her own broken, raspy screams that stayed with her now. He'd been right about one thing...her silence had not lasted long. He'd wanted her misery. And he'd gotten it all. Finally leaving her on a mattress that'd seen too much of her blood, naked, shivering, crying, and finally silent again.<p>

There was no threat of sleep in this silence, though it would've been easy to lay there forever. Because movement meant agony and she'd had more than enough of that. But she could hear Lewis' voice in her head, see the taunting smile on his face, promising her more suffering.

_That knee, only delayed the inevitable sweetheart. Next time you're gonna get your wish. It'll be me inside you, invading every part of your body._

There couldn't be a next time. Not if she had any hope of getting away before she lost herself completely. Maybe she already had, but something inside her said that was not the case. Not yet. Olivia pushed herself up and crawled slowly off the mattress, letting out a whimper of pain as she started to move. Luckily she didn't have to go far. She knew exactly what she was looking for and where it was, even in the dark. Her hand brushed against the material of her coat and she picked it up, slipping her hand into the pocket, pulling the pieces of wire out. She set them on the floor and slipped the coat on with a great effort. She could feel the gaping hole in the back, but it didn't matter. It was better than nothing. The material irritated the fresh wounds on her arm, but she refused to allow herself to think about them. Those wounds were perhaps the most painful because they ran much deeper than her skin.

She began the task of picking the lock again with more urgency than she'd ever had. Her hands still shook as she worked, but it seemed less marked than before. She was mechanical in her efforts, focused in a way that she shouldn't have been, a living, breathing embodiment of determination, fueled by fear and anger. Emotion, blood, sleep, thirst...she shut her mind off to all of it, the ability to do so maybe the one thing she'd gained in this ordeal. All she could see was escape and she worked toward it with a single-mindedness born out of one very basic instinct. Survival.

Olivia dropped the wire once, then a second time, but the frustration that'd plagued her before didn't faze her now. She started the process again, pushing at the pins, feeling them give under her pressure, focused on the the fingers of her left hand which held the tension of the lock. It was working, she'd felt a number of pins give way beneath her prodding.

She moved the wire again and finally she felt the last pin give way. She paused, scared that she'd turn the wire in the lock and nothing would happen. She pulled the wire she held in her right hand out of the lock, setting it beside her and then brought her right hand up to grasp the L-shaped piece in her left, turning the lock. It clicked and she heard the shackle pop open. She pulled the wire from the lock and dropped it to the floor, hurriedly grasping the lock with her good hand and pulling it free of the the chain which fell loosely around her ankle. She rolled her knees to the right and pulled the chain away from her leg. Her hand went down to her ankle, touching the raw skin where it used to be, a little afraid she was dreaming. But her dreams since she'd been here had never been like this, they were dark and terrible. This was freedom. The restraints were gone, the weight was gone, there was nothing to stop her from walking across the room and up that ladder.

She let out a sigh of relief, feeling something akin to happiness for the first time in what seemed like forever. She started to push herself up, intent on getting across the room to the ladder, but reality crashed in on her and she sank back down to the ground. Yes, she was free, but she still had to make it out of the cabin, to the road. How was she going to manage that? That complication took the wind out of her. What was she supposed to do? Did she wait until she heard Lewis leave the cabin and try to sneak into the woods undetected? No, she thought, that won't work. There was no guarantee he'd be gone long. What if he only went outside for a second, came back and found her? He'd drag her right back down there. And what if he didn't go outside again before he came back? He'd see she was free. So what was the other option? A sinking feeling seized her stomach as she realized she was going to have to face him and get the upper hand when he came back. There was a cynical, fearful part of her that thought she may as well just put the chain back around her leg, he'd never know what she'd done and maybe she'd survive until the squad found her. She knew she wouldn't win a fight against him, she'd tried. The memory of it was fresh in her mind as was the way she'd suffered for it.

Hope was extinguished in that moment as she sat on the floor, considering what would be worse...to try the escape, get caught and suffer more for it, maybe die for it? Or to stay when she had the chance run, endure his cruelty and hope she was found before he killed her? She'd suffer either way, she might die either way and neither was a sure thing...so she had nothing to lose. She knew in that moment she would try to run, no matter how precarious a situation it was. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized that the game had changed with her ability to move about the entire room. He would be taken by surprise and she might be able to get the upper hand on him without ever throwing or taking a punch. She picked the lock up off the floor, shoved it in the coat pocket and slowly pushed herself to her feet. But the pain in her legs was sharp, intense and she cried out, dropping back to the ground immediately. Olivia clenched her jaw in determination and crawled to the wall, bracing herself against it, pushing to her feet again. This time the pain was expected and she steadied herself against the wall before taking a few tentative steps forward. She limped to the ladder slowly, gritting her teeth against the ache between her legs, in her legs. She positioned herself at the ladder, leaning against it, waiting.

She waited like that, huddled near the ladder, alert to every sound that emanated from above, wondering if it was the moment when Lewis would appear. At some point she dropped down to the floor in exhaustion and resorted to counting his footsteps to keep herself awake. She visualized what would happen in her mind, each second perfectly scripted, ready to be acted out. He would open the door and descend the ladder into the the dark room. When his feet touched the floor he would reach up to the light and turn it on. Light would fill the room and when his eyes adjusted he'd search for her, but he wouldn't find her. It was in those few seconds between the light coming on and the realization that she wasn't there that she would have to make her move. She would be waiting behind him and she would grab her gun from the waistband of his jeans, behind his back. Then she would be in control. She saw it in her head over and over again, she could almost feel the gun in her hand, cold, heavy metal held tightly in her grasp.

Olivia's eyes snapped open, panic & uncertainty shocking her nervous system. What if he didn't have the gun with him? She felt a sinking feeling at this possibility. The gun was her lifeline. Any other outcome to this and her chances of escaping were essentially zero. There was no way she'd win a fight against him, she'd already tried. She was too weak and had far too many injuries. And even if she could get ahold of a knife, she thought she still didn't stand a chance. Lewis wasn't going to go up against a gun, but she thought there was a good chance he'd like his odds against a knife when it was being wielded by someone who'd been beaten and tortured as she had. She patted her coat pocket where the lock was. If the gun wasn't there, she'd have to try to knock him out somehow using the lock, but she was less than confident about her ability to do that. _ He'll have the gun. It has to be there. _

She said a silent, desperate prayer that the small voice inside was right. There weren't going to be any second chances, this was it and if she didn't succeed, he would make her pay and she would probably pay with her life. She inhaled deeply, choosing not to focus on this possibility because she couldn't walk away from this opportunity. He would kill her eventually anyway. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to envision freedom for the first time. She imagined what it would be like to walk out of this place, to breathe in fresh air, feel the grass beneath her feet, to see the colors that would surround her, green, blue, brown when her world had become nothing but grey...and red. More than anything, she wanted to see her squad again: Cragen, Amanda, Fin, Nick and Brian she wanted to see him again. The images were vivid and she longed for them.

There was a loud screeching noise and then a small, dim stream of light fell to the floor in front of her. Olivia's heart began thudding rapidly in her chest. She got to her feet quietly, rapid, silent breaths escaping her as she listened to his boots on the ladder. She could see his outline from where she stood cloaked in the dark as he descended into the faint light.

She heard the click of the light being turned on and a yellow glow engulfed the room. She reacted immediately. It was exactly as she'd visualized so many times, her eyes immediately went to his waistband where she knew the gun would be and it was there, unmistakable in its contrast with the white t-shirt he was wearing. She stepped forward, reached her hand out and grabbed the gun, pulling it quickly, forcefully from his waistband and moving away from him as soon as she had the weapon. Lewis spun, surprise and confusion etched into his face. She continued to limp away from him, stumbling slightly, but regaining her balance. She kept as much distance between them as she could manage, her arm outstretched, gun held in her right hand. It felt unfamiliar to her. It was too big, too heavy, her hand shook beneath it's weight. She reaffirmed her grip on the handle and looked up into Lewis' face.

"Don't move," she commanded with a confidence that belied the fear that was in her heart.

Lewis put his hands out in front of him, her eyes drawn to a cut across his palm. She wondered if that was the only visible damage that she'd inflicted on him. She quickly scanned through her litany of injuries, blood still dripping down her leg and she was overcome by the desire to make sure he hurt.

The surprise and confusion on his face gave way to a look she recognized well, one she'd seen not long ago...barely concealed rage.

"Look at you." There was something in those words, in his voice that sent chills through her. His eyes dropped to the chain and then they found the pieces of wire on the floor. "Where'd you get those?"

Her disobedient eyes flashed to the remaining strips of her clothes. He followed her gaze curiously and took a step toward them.

"I said don't move."

"Or what," he shrugged. "You'll shoot me? Do it."

"I will. For what you've done to me...to Zara." The hardness in her voice gave way to sadness as she said Zara's name.

"I believe you would, but you might want to hold off on that."

"I don't think so."

"Are you sure? Because I know something you don't and trust me Olivia, you want to know."

"I don't care," she said dismissing him. "No more games. I'm not interested in anything you have to say."

"No? Not even if I told you Zara's alive?"

* * *

><p>Is he telling the truth? That is the question.<p> 


	14. Chapter 14

And here we are again. So this will probably be the last update until September. That doesn't mean I won't still be working on it, but I'm not going to make it a priority as I normally do for the next month or so. I really need to finish out this Ironman training right and when it's over with, I will have weeks worth of recovery coming and this story will have my undivided attention. So this chapter...finally a break from the horror of the last I don't know how many chapters. It's been rough, I know. Remember chapter 9 when I said I hate internal monologue? Well unfortunately there's plenty of it here. Hopefully it's not excruciating. As always thanks to everyone reading and especially those taking the time to review. I hope you enjoy.

* * *

><p><em>"No? Not even if I told you Zara's alive?"<em>

Shock flickered in Olivia's eyes, then her face hardened. "You're lying."

"Am I?" Lewis dropped his hands and cocked his head to the side, his face impassive.

"Yes, you are." She took another step away from him. "I know what you're doing and I'm not falling for it. Put the handcuffs on. Behind your back."

She watched his head drop to the cuffs, then lift back up to stare at her, but he didn't move.

"Do it. Now." Her hand was shaking, finger squeezing against the trigger, just a twitch of her muscle and he'd be gone.

He seemed to sense how close she was to it. "Ok. Let's do this your way for now." His voice was icy, annoyed, jaw clenched in anger as he pulled the handcuffs from his waistband and secured them behind his back.

She felt a modicum of the tension in her body ease when the silver metal closed around his wrists. He took a few steps back and leaned against the wall.

"Well, what are you waiting for," he asked flippantly. "If you're so sure I'm lying, shoot me."

"You are lying," she whispered, flinching as if the words were physically painful to say. Her eyes dropped to the bloody yellow headband laying on the floor and she swallowed against the lump that was forming in her throat. "You killed her."

He followed her gaze to the blood-stained piece of fabric, then turned so his back was to her, showing her the cut across his palm. "My blood."

She eyed the cut on his hand, the same one she'd noticed moments ago. She frowned, trying to remember when she'd done it, but she couldn't and it made her uneasy. It was too perfect now that she looked at it. Right in the center, straight, not too big….as if he'd done it himself.

"I don't believe you." Olivia stared at the cut a moment longer then shook her head, repeating her effort to convince herself that his words were lies. "No."

"Are you sure," he asked skeptically, narrowing his eyes at her. "I don't think you are. Otherwise why bother with these?" He turned, indicating the handcuffs.

"Maybe I want to torture you," she threatened softly, her voice hollow, void of emotion.

"Maybe." He shrugged his shoulders carelessly. "But I don't think that's it. Not really your style." He paused and peered at her as if he could see the struggle that was taking place within her. She shifted anxiously under his gaze. "I think deep down you know it's true."

She shook her head, still denying his assertion, but doubt was creeping in and hope was following. As much as she tried, she couldn't keep it out, even though it felt like jumping out of a plane without a parachute. She was going to crash.

"I heard the gunshot," she recalled, starting to reason through the confusion in her head, talking more to herself than him. "Zara was your leverage. Why would you lie about her being dead?"

His voice interrupted her quiet rumination. "You're asking the wrong question."

She stared at him in confusion, lowering the gun slightly.

"Do you remember the Mayer's house?"

He watched her expectantly, waiting for affirmation and she offered a small nod, her eyes trained on him, unwavering at the mention of those horrifying hours.

A smile crept over his face. "And you remember the way they looked at you, begging for help that you couldn't give them?"

She closed her eyes, jaw clenched as she saw them in her head. Mr. Mayer writhing on the floor, slowly dying. And Mrs. Mayer laying beneath Lewis while he raped her.

Lewis chuckled as she cringed in the wake of the memory. "See Olivia, the question you should really be asking yourself is would I put a bullet in Zara's adorable little head if you weren't there to look into her eyes when I did it?" She met his gaze, a knowing look passing between them. "I think you know the answer to that question."

She did, because she'd spent far too long with a front row seat to his twisted mind. Though somewhere along the way she'd forgotten everything she knew and gotten lost in the hopelessness of her situation, no longer able to see that there was a difference between what Lewis could do and what he would do. Could he have killed Zara? Yes. Would he have killed Zara? Yes, he would. But not like that. Not some vague, imageless death. He'd want her to see it the way he'd made her watch the Mayers suffer. Another form of torture...this an attack on her mind and heart instead of her body. The image burned into her eyes, awake and asleep, in visions and nightmares, haunting whispers of her memories. Why didn't she see it before? Because he'd been so angry, she'd thought his rage had made him act without thinking. Now she wondered if she'd been wrong. Maybe it'd all been one of his games. She wasn't sure what she believed anymore.

"You said it yourself, she's my leverage. I thought I'd keep her around a little longer." A smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. "I told you I wouldn't underestimate you again."

Her head was spinning, pain and exhaustion were wreaking havoc on her body, making it almost impossible to think, to find some clarity. All the while he watched her looking amused, like he'd won some battle she wasn't aware they'd fought.

Olivia lifted her eyes to meet his, resolve and determination emanating from them. "You already did." She dropped her eyes to the gun in her hand.

He shrugged nonchalantly, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly. "I still have Zara."

"If she's alive, I'll find her."

"Are you willing to bet her life on that? Face it Olivia, you're right back where you started. Now, uncuff me, hand over the gun and I'll bring her back, you have my word." He pushed himself away from the wall and took a step closer to her. She shuffled her feet back. "Don't worry. I promise not to hurt you...much." He inclined his head to the side as he said the words, a malicious smile spreading over his face. "But the longer you make me wait, the worse it'll be. Make it easier on yourself, we both know how this ends."

For a brief moment, she gave in to the chaos in her head and considered it. What else could she do? She'd already been down this road and she knew where it led. It probably would be smarter to give up now rather than hours later. He'd only be angrier then. Would that really save her in the end, though? His wrath would be inescapable either way. And, though she was exhausted, she was not ready to give up so easily, not when freedom had just been realized. There had to be another way.

"You know nothing," she said in a soft, dangerous voice. "Get on your knees."

There was a glimmer of surprise in his eyes that was gone as quickly as it appeared. He lowered himself to the concrete slowly, his face an emotionless mask.

She circled around behind him and put the gun to his head. He leaned back into it.

"Go ahead. I'm taking her with me." His voice held no fear, no sense of urgency for his life. She may as well have been holding a toy gun to his head for all the concern he showed. She pushed the Glock against him harder, the urge to pull the trigger so strong she could barely contain her trembling hand. She turned her head to the side, staring at the mattress spotted with patches of red. Her blood. Every second of misery washed over her, from the minute he stepped out of the shadows in her apartment until that moment, standing in nothing but a coat that'd been nearly shredded, legs shaking beneath her, pain in every inch of her body, bloody, bruised, utterly devastated. It could all end here. One squeeze of the trigger and he'd be dead. She'd never have to see his face, that smile, hear his voice ever again. She wanted it more than anything. Almost anything. She pulled the gun away, raised it above her shoulders and then brought it down on his head. He fell to the floor, a light thudding sound as his body collided with the concrete.

She stood still, staring down at his unconscious form until she finally snapped out of the daze she was in and kicked him over onto his back. There was blood coming from a cut on his forehead and it gave her some small amount of satisfaction to watch his blood flow instead of her own. She knelt beside him, eyeing him cautiously, and set the gun on the floor. She glanced down to his pockets, hands clenching at her sides, a wave of sickness passing through her at the thought of touching him. She took a deep breath and with a shaky hand, she reached into one pocket, then the other, cringing as she did so, pulling out cigarettes, a lighter, and three keys. She tossed the cigarettes and the lighter across the room and put all but one key on the ground, the key to the padlock. Olivia pulled the padlock from her pocket and opened it, then set the lock on the ground. She reached for the chain and wrapped it tightly around his ankle, then picked up the lock and slipped it through the links of the chain. She grabbed the keys and the gun, then walked to where the pieces of wire lay on the ground, reaching down to pick them up. Her eyes scanned the room carefully, searching for something, anything he would be able to use to free himself. When she was satisfied there was nothing, she hobbled to the ladder, sparing one final glance back at the unconscious monster on the floor, before switching the light off.

She climbed the steps, leaning heavily against the ladder, and emerged onto the wood floor of the cabin, glancing around the room, overcome by surreality of the moment. It felt like she'd just crawled out of her own grave because in the darkest recesses of her mind, she'd wondered if she would die there. Her eyes were drawn to the door and she couldn't help but notice how close it was, how easy it would be to walk across the room, open it and leave. _No,_ she thought. _It's not that simple. _She felt the heat of the fire on her skin and though she was cold, she turned away from the fireplace, her eyes going to the window as she did. It was getting dark, only faint light came through the window. A new sense of urgency took hold of her, a feeling that she was running out of time, but she wasn't sure what she was even trying to do yet.

Olivia stepped into the kitchen, dropping the wire and keys on the table, then she turned to survey the cabin, making a complete circle of the room with her eyes until she came to a small hallway to the left of the kitchen where there was a door she'd never been through. She opened the door and stepped through it, into a bathroom. Her eyes swept the small room quickly. It was empty. _Of course it is_, she thought ruefully. _Did you really think she'd be here? _She was about to leave the room when she glimpsed her reflection in the mirror and froze, hesitantly turning back to stare at the unrecognizable woman in front of her. Blood had dried beneath her nose, a cut on her lip, her head, above her eye, bruises covering her face, her neck. She watched in the mirror as her hand came up to touch the dark purple bruise that circled her throat, flinching when her fingers made contact with skin, surprised not by pain, but the reality of what was reflected back at her. The mirror held no illusions, only the image of a woman tortured beyond recognition. She leaned over the sink, hands braced on the counter, inhaling deeply, studying her reflection intently.

She finally tore her eyes away from the mirror and leaned down, one hand on the sink pulling open the drawers of the bathroom vanity. She wasn't sure what she was looking for, but she knew she'd found something useful when she opened the cabinet door, revealing a pile of clothes. There were a few t-shirts and a long sleeve shirt that must've been Archer's. She picked the navy blue long sleeve shirt from the pile and slipped her arms out of the coat. The sensation of the cool air against the cuts in her arm drew her eyes instinctively to them. She stared at her arm, paralyzed by the image of those two letters, angry red marks against her skin, blood smeared around them, dried to an almost black color in places. She closed her eyes sadly and willed herself to let it go. The cuts were there and nothing would change that now. Besides, there were more important things to focus on. She slipped the navy blue shirt over her head and watched it fall to her thighs. It immediately made her feel more secure, leaving less of her skin exposed and covering the worst of Lewis' torment. She opened the last drawer, hoping to find a pair of pants she could put on, but it was empty. She straightened up and walked out the door into the kitchen area where she pulled out a chair and eased herself down onto it.

What now? _Find Zara. _She sighed and dropped her head down into her hands. _If she's really alive._ She couldn't deny the doubt that still lingered in her mind. Lewis was right, she was back where she'd started, facing the same questions she'd faced days ago in her apartment with no guarantees, except one. If Zara was alive, he was the only one who knew where she was. She got up out of the chair and went to the window, gazing out into the dusky landscape, searching for an answer to those questions, afraid she'd come up with the same one. But as she went over the all too familiar options in her head, her hopelessness slowly gave way to realization. It wasn't the same, not quite. Last time there'd been no clue as to where Lewis might've had Zara. But now? She couldn't be far away, could she? He was able to be in both places, keeping Zara alive and tormenting her. How many times had she heard him leave? Too many to count. And he was never gone long. It occurred to her as she continued to stare outside, that she knew nothing of her surroundings. Maybe there was something else out there, a shed, a garage, a barn...somewhere he would keep Zara. She took a few steps to the door, her hand closing around the knob, when her eyes fell to the piles of wood next to the fireplace. Something sparked in her mind. That much wood, it would have to be stored somewhere. And suddenly she was more sure than ever that she would find another building nearby. She pulled the door open and stepped outside onto the porch.

The cool, night air washed over her and she took a moment to breathe it in gratefully. She slowly padded across the wooden porch until she stepped onto grass and dirt, reveling in the feel of the soft ground beneath her feet. She immediately circled around the cabin, looking for a building that'd been hidden from her view, stopping to survey the unfamiliar surroundings when she didn't find one. They'd arrived in the dead of night, she'd seen nothing but darkness and the outline of trees against the sky. The faint light of dusk offered her little more now. The trees seemed to stretch on forever, disappearing into shadow in every direction. It was all she could see. Maybe she'd been wrong. There was no building, at least not nearby. So if Zara was out there, there was no telling where she was. _I can't search this forest on my own. I don't even know if she's here. _She felt overwhelmed, like the air was too heavy, holding her down to the ground, rendering her unable to move forward. She turned back to look at the SUV parked in the small clearing in front of the cabin. It would be easier to get in the car and drive away. She could get help and if Zara was here somewhere, there was a good chance they'd find her. But what if she wasn't? Lewis had once mentioned a house he'd broken into. What if he'd taken Zara there? Or he could have a partner. Someone had been at the cabin, she reasoned. It didn't seem likely, but she couldn't rule it out. There were too many uncertainties and only one certainty at that moment. Lewis was her lifeline to Zara and if she left or she killed him, she risked Zara's life. The only way out was to find her and if she didn't... She shook her head, refusing to go back to that place.

"She's got to be here," Olivia whispered to herself. She turned away and began scanning the trees again. The longer she searched, the more convinced she became that there was nothing there. She wrapped her arms around herself and made another circle around the cabin, intermittently letting her eyes climb to the sky, anxiously watching it grow darker. She began calling out for Zara, a desperate attempt made even more futile by the fact that her voice had not yet recovered from Lewis' hands around her throat. The air was getting cooler and she squeezed herself tighter, delving further into the trees with each step. She was about to turn back when her foot collided with something on the ground. She stumbled, then turned her head, squinting through the dark to see what it was. A tree branch. She started back toward the cabin, but then whipped around, moving closer to the small, triangular piece of wood, kneeling down beside it.

"Firewood," she whispered, picking it up, examining it. Her eyes searched the woods again, then the ground and she noted a footprint entrenched in mud that'd dried and hardened. A few feet away, there was another less noticeable one. She stood up and began walking in the direction of the footprints, her gaze alternating between the ground and the forest ahead of her, constantly searching for a place where Zara might be hidden.

She kept moving deeper into the woods, scanning the trees, all the while considering she might be chasing a ghost. There was a rustling sound around her. She stopped, her eyes frantically searching through the increasing darkness for the source of the noise, gun raised in front of her. Something stepped out into her line of sight a few feet ahead and it took a second for her eyes to discern what it was. A deer. She released a breath and slowly lowered the gun to her side. The doe stood still, alert, ears raised, staring at her in alarm. She stared back wondering if she had a similar wild, frightened look about her that it recognized because it turned it's head away and dropped it to the ground, seeming to judge her as something other than a predator. Olivia watched the graceful animal sniff at the ground, then a few seconds later it lifted it's head once more and turned to her again.

"I'm not going to hurt you," she said softly. A gust of wind rushed through the trees and the leaves seemed to whisper all around her. The doe's ears raised again and then it darted off. She watched it bound away until it stopped in what appeared to be a small clearing where the small bit of light left in the sky reflected off of water. A pond. This piqued her interest and she veered off from the path she'd been on, moving toward the water. As she got closer, something else came into view. Sitting only feet away from the pond was a small wooden shed. Her whole body seemed to come alive, heart thumping with nervous excitement, her feet moving rapidly over the forest floor. She ran the last few feet to the shed and pulled at the door, but it didn't move. She pulled again, her eyes trailing up to find a padlock securing the door closed.

"Zara," Olivia said hopefully, tapping a fist against the door. "Zara, are you in there?" _Please be in there._ She waited, listening for some sign of life, hearing only the rustle of the leaves as the wind blew through the trees.

She knocked again, then leaned her head against the door, hand resting next to her head. "Zara," Olivia called louder. She closed her eyes and listened. Silence. She smacked her hand against the door, releasing a cry of frustration.

"Olivia." The voice was soft, faint and decidedly scared, but it was Zara's voice.

"Yeah," Olivia choked out through a sob. She put a hand to her mouth, overcome by a wave of emotion. Her legs buckled and she dropped down to her knees, putting her head in her hands. It was as if a weight had been lifted from her and she could finally breathe again. Happiness, exhaustion, relief...it all radiated from her, seeming to permeate the air around her. It started to rain and she lifted her head to greet the drops, letting them fall onto her face, providing the moisture that her eyes couldn't.

"Zara, sweetie, I'm going to get you out of there," Olivia told her, pushing herself to her feet.

"Ok."

She gave the door another cursory pull, then she began circling the shed, looking for another way in. It looked old, like it might've been built before the cabin. There were no windows, no signs of weakness. The lock would have to come off. She could try to pick it like she'd picked the other one, but how long would that take? Too long, she thought. She could leave and bring help back to get Zara out. But she dismissed that idea as soon as it entered her head. She wasn't leaving without Zara. She just had to find the key. Or did she? Her mind went to the keys laying on the kitchen table. Maybe she'd already found it.

"I can't open the door," she called to Zara. "I'm going to go back and get the key. Then I'll be back to get you out, ok?"

"No," Zara cried. "Don't leave me."

Olivia closed her eyes and put her head against the door. "Zara, I have to go get the key. I have to," she insisted. "I promise you I'll be back. I would never leave you." She paused and then continued. "Zara?"

"Ok." Her quiet reply was barely audible and Olivia sighed at the helplessness she felt. She stood in front of the shed a moment longer, hesitant to leave now that she'd found her. Finally she managed to take a step away but turned back to make one last promise. _  
><em>

"I'll be right back."

* * *

><p>They walked into the lobby of the State Police Regional Headquarters and flashed their temporary badges to the uniformed man sitting behind the desk in front of them.<p>

The man nodded his approval and went back to staring at his computer screen, while Nick and Brian entered a door to the left of the desk by swiping their badges across a black panel on the wall. They heard the unmistakable sound of the latch disengaging, then Nick grabbed the door and pulled it open, stepping into a white walled hallway with black and white tile floor. It was still an unfamiliar walk, one they'd only made once before and they took a few uncertain turns hoping they were going the right way. They peered into rooms as the walked by, finding many rooms alive with activity. Uniformed troopers passed by them walking quickly, talking animatedly. They finally ended up in front of the double doors with the words **Criminal Investigation** on them. A man dressed in black pants and a blue button up shirt exited through the doors as they were entering, holding it open for them while eyeing them with a somewhat puzzled expression. They walked to the far side of the room where Alicia was seated at a desk, flipping through a file.

"I think this might be the only quiet room in the building," Brian remarked, scanning the room around them.

"Oh. Yeah," Alicia nodded, "The weather. They're calling for a ton of rain, flash flooding, all that. Planning for the worst…you know how it is." She finally looked up from what she was reading and asked, "How'd it go?"

"The bartender at Kipling's confirmed what Simon told us," Brian explained. "Said the guy's name is Caleb Shaw. He's a regular there."

"I'll look him up," Alicia said, putting her fingers on the keyboard.

"Don't bother. The bartender gave us his address and we went there, but he wasn't home."

"He also said he hasn't been at the bar for a few days. Thinks he might be on some kind of hunting trip," Nick added.

"I don't suppose the bartender happened to know where he was doing this hunting?"

Nick shook his head. Disappointment clearly visible in his face.

"Well, while you guys were gone, I've been going over Mr. Casey's records."

"You finding anything," Brian asked.

Alicia sighed and looked down at the file in front of her. "Not yet, but I haven't gotten very far."

Brian folded his arms across his chest. "I know Casey's been cooperative, but I think we need to check into his personal property too."

"Already done," Alicia confirmed, not bothering to look up from the file that she'd begun reading again. "Besides the CMD building, there's a home here and another upstate."

"So nothing," Nick asked rhetorically. He scratched at the faint beard that'd formed on his face. "Alright, I'm going to call the Captain and update him on everything."

Nick picked up the phone at Alicia's desk and dialed the Captain's number. When it started to ring, he hit the speaker phone button.

"SVU, Cragen."

"Hey Captain, it's Nick. I'm here with Cassidy and Alicia. I've got you on speaker phone."

"Nick, hold on. Let me get Fin and Rollins in here."

They heard the sound of a door opening and the Captain calling to Fin and Amanda. After a few more seconds of footsteps, shuffling and the door closing, the Captain returned. "Ok, Nick. Go ahead."

"We talked to Simon Casey earlier today," Nick started, staring at the phone as he spoke. "He wasn't aware of any property Archer might be using. We got his records for the time period that Archer worked for him and he also sent us to a bar where they had a beer occasionally. We were able to get the name of another friend of Archer's, a hunter name Caleb Shaw."

"What's your instinct on Casey," the Captain asked.

"He's…cooperative." Nick allowed. "The way he tells it, he and Archer weren't close anymore. They lost touch for awhile, then Archer came to him looking for a job and he gave him one."

"I don't buy that. There's something off there," Brian grumbled.

"I'm not disagreeing, but unless something comes up in these records, we've got nothing," Nick explained. "We checked into his personal holdings…the business obviously, his house, a second home upstate.

"Ok, what about Mr. Shaw," the Captain asked.

"The bartender gave us his address, but he wasn't there," Brian told them. "He told us Shaw hasn't been in for a while, thought he might be on some kind of hunting trip."

"Is it hunting season," Fin asked from the other side of the line.

"It all depends on what you're hunting," Alicia answered, looking thoughtful. "But I can't think of anything that's fair game this time of year." She paused, noticing Nick and Brian's surprised faces and added, "My dad and brother live and breathe that stuff."

"So this hunting trip is probably bogus," Fin continued.

"Seems that way," Alicia replied.

"Have we checked Shaw out? Serious hunters have land and cabins," Cragen suggested.

"Hold on." Alicia's fingers began moving rapidly over the keyboard, her search coming to an end with one final, loud tap to a key. "No, I don't see anything."

There was silence on both ends.

"We're going to stay in town at least another day," Nick informed them. "We're hoping to track down Shaw and finish going through these records." He paused and then continued. "This is where Archer worked, where he lived…they've got to be here."

"You stay there," the Captain agreed. "I think that's where our effort needs to be. I may be sending Fin and Rollins your way shortly. We're waiting to see how this Archer thing pans out."

"What'd he want," Nick asked him, in a tone that said he already knew the answer.

Amanda's voice came through the speaker, "He claims he wants to help us find Lewis."

Nick scoffed.

"Yeah, well there's a catch…he wants to take us to where Lewis is hiding."

Nick shook his head. "He's lying."

"That's what I said," Fin chimed in.

"I haven't gotten word back from the higher-ups yet, but I think it's safe to say they're not going to like it," Cragen told them. "This is turning into a publicity nightmare. If the media gets ahold of something like that?"

"Yeah," Nick said quietly.

"It's worth a shot. I don't care how bad the guy is," Brian insisted. "What else do we have to go on? If he jerks our chain, so what?"

Nick nodded. "Captain, I don't believe the guy, but I'd shake hands with the devil himself if there was even the slightest chance he'd help us."

"I agree and I've told the Brass as much, but it's out of my hands now," Cragen explained.

There was an extended silence, all avenues of finding Zara and Olivia covered. It left them feeling disappointed that there wasn't more.

"Nick, how's your mom doing," Cragen asked.

"She…" He rubbed a hand over his face, eyes closed. His voice broke off momentarily, then he started again. "The doctors were going to start bringing her out of the coma, but she developed a respiratory infection and it would be dangerous for them to attempt it now. They're leaving her in the coma until they can get a handle on the infection." He trailed off, staring ahead at the wall with no clear focus.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Cragen said somberly. "I'm sure she's in good hands, though."

"Yeah." Nick looked around at Brian and Alicia, then to the files waiting for them on the desk. "We better get back to these files. I'll check back in tomorrow."

"Get some sleep, both of you," he ordered. "You're no good to them if you can't function."

Nick and Brian offered a placating response to the Captain, both knowing that there would be no sleep that night. Sleep was for people with time and they were running out of time. Olivia and Zara were running out of time.

* * *

><p>Olivia pulled the cabin door open, gun leveled, scanning the interior cautiously, half expecting Lewis to have found a way to get himself free and be waiting for her. But the room was empty. She stepped inside and went to the table, picking up the keys she'd discarded there. She grabbed the unknown key and tossed the other two back on the table. That had to be it, what other reason would Lewis have for keeping it in his pocket?<p>

The rain was falling harder now, she could hear it tapping against the roof. She looked out the window, increasingly aware of how little light was left. She hurried out the door and off the porch, making her way back to the shed. She shuffled her feet along as quickly as she could, stopping once to wipe something sharp away from the bottom of her foot. It seemed like a much longer trip back, though it was only a couple minutes. Her body ached, each step more painful than the one before it, her legs threatening to give out, but she kept moving. Finally she reached the shed and put her hands against the door.

"Zara," she yelled over the pouring rain. "I'm here, I'm going to get you out."

Olivia held the key between her fingers and reached up, putting it to the lock. "Can you hear me?"

"Yes," came her faint reply.

Her fingers slid on the wet metal as she tried to fit it into the opening of the lock and it slipped from her grip, falling to the ground.

"Damn it," she muttered under her breath.

"What's wrong?" Zara's frightened voice echoed from inside the shed.

Olivia knelt down and began pulling her fingers through the grass, leaves and sticks searching for the key. "Nothing sweetie. I just dropped the key. I'll find it." She patted the ground around her and squinted her eyes against the dark looking for the glint of metal. And then she saw it. She reached her hand out and grabbed the key. "I found it. Just one more minute."

She put the key back to the lock, trying to blindly fit it into the opening. After a few seconds of struggling with it, she pulled it back and flipped it in her fingers. She tried it again, this time slipping the key easily into the lock and turning. The shackle released and she took the lock off, hurriedly pulling the door open. There were stacks of wood, a cart, and some other miscellaneous stuff immediately visible in the shed.

"Zara," Olivia said uncertainly, taking a step forward so she was standing in front of the entrance.

Zara appeared in the doorway, her yellow t-shirt standing out against the black interior of the shed. Olivia knelt down in front of her, studying her face, searching her eyes for answers to questions she couldn't ask. Zara stared back for a moment and then her face crumpled and she ran forward, wrapping her arms around Olivia's neck, burying her face in her shoulder.

"He said I wouldn't see you anymore," Zara cried.

Olivia put her arms around Zara, running one hand through her hair. It was real, she was real. Even after hearing her voice, she'd been afraid that she might wake up, remembering a dream that'd seemed so real. But it wasn't a dream. Zara was here, in her arms. She could feel her heart beating and the rise and fall of her chest against her own body. It was enough to break down every wall she'd ever built. Her body shook with the enormity of her sobs and she took great heaving breaths. She put her cheek against Zara's head and squeezed her tighter as if she might disappear. The rain continued to fall on them, soaking their clothes, leaving no part of them dry, but it didn't matter. The world around them seemed to fade away and in that moment all that was left was them, clinging to each other as if one life depended on the other. Olivia finally pulled Zara back so she could look at her.

"Are you ok? Did he hurt you?"

Zara held up her elbow uncertainly. There was a large gash that appeared to be old. "He pushed me down and pointed the gun at me." Her eyes dropped to the gun on the ground beside Olivia, looking at it apprehensively. "He shot the ground by me." Olivia watched Zara as she stared at the gun.

"Hey." She grabbed Zara's hands and waited for the little girl to meet her eyes. "I promise you that's never going to happen again. We're going home."

Zara stared beyond Olivia toward the cabin and then her eyes dropped back to Olivia's. "He said you were bad because you tried to run away. He said he hurt you so you wouldn't do that anymore." Zara stared at the Olivia for a moment, seeming to catalogue her injuries in horror, the proof that Lewis had done what he'd said.

"We can't be bad." She was terrified. Olivia could see it in her face, hear it in her voice.

"Zara, he can't hurt us anymore. I promise," she insisted. "Do you trust me?"

Zara nodded and offered a quiet, "Yes."

Olivia grabbed the gun and stood up, wiping at the pieces of hair plastered to her face. She grasped Zara's hand with her good one and looked down at her. "Ok, let's go home."

* * *

><p>Captain Cragen sat with his back turned away from his desk, staring out the window, wallowing in his thoughts. In all his years with the NYPD, he'd never felt so completely lost. All his knowledge, experience, authority...it was all useless. None of it was helping to find Olivia and Zara.<p>

There was a knock at his door and he stared out the window a second longer.

"Come in," he beckoned to the person at the door, as he turned his chair to face his desk. The door opened and ADA Barba, entered his office looking decidedly less put together than normal.

"Counselor," Cragen said, sounding a little surprised by his presence. "What can I do for you?"

Barba approached a chair situated across from his desk and motioned to it, "May I?"

"Of course."

He dropped down into the chair, his eyes closing for a second as he did. Cragen watched him, recognizing a familiar exhaustion in his face. Barba leaned over with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped in front of him, finally lifting his eyes to meet the Captain's.

"I was going to ask if there was any news, but judging by the look on your face I'd say there's not and if there is, I don't want to hear it."

"Nick and Brian have a few leads up there, but nothing concrete."

Barba ran a hand over his face. "I told myself I was only stopping by to see if there was any news." He paused and then continued. "The truth is, right now I feel like I belong here, not out there. I stand in that courtroom and all I can think about it is Lewis' trial. I wanted justice for her, maybe more than I'd ever wanted it before. And I thought we'd gotten it...at least some. I thought it was over for her..." His voice trailed off, seemingly unable to find the words to continue.

Cragen nodded his head sympathetically.

"Anyway, I know you've got an investigation to get back to. If there's anything I can do, let me know."

Barba got up out of his chair and Cragen rose at the same time.

"Unless you've got some sway with the Brass that I don't know about..."

"I don't. Why," Barba asked.

"Lewis' cellmate, Archer? Fin and Rollins went to see him. He claims he'll take us to where Lewis is hiding."

"But they won't authorize it?"

"Let's just say I'm not holding my breath."

Barba turned to leave, then spun back to face the Captain. "Maybe you don't need them to."

Cragen furrowed his brows in confusion. "What are you thinking?"

"What if your friend the Warden has his people tell Archer that the NYPD has agreed to his terms?"

"To what end?"

"Do you remember how we finally got what we needed on the BX-9 leader?"

"He confessed in a phone call while he was incarcerated."

"Right. So you let Archer believe he's going to lead you to where Lewis is and go from there," Barba explained. "It's a long shot, but maybe he gets in touch with Lewis somehow. Or lets it slip to someone else. Maybe he never makes a phone call, who knows? The point is, why not?"

Cragen contemplated this, nodding his head as he mulled it over. "It's not a bad idea. The way Fin and Rollins talk about this guy, I'm not sure he's going to make a mistake like that, but it can't hurt to try."

He started walking back around his desk, while Barba went to the door. Cragen grabbed the phone, then looked up at Barba as his hand closed around the door handle. "Thanks Counselor."

Barba's lips turned up into a small smile. "Don't thank me until it gets you something." He pulled the door open and left the office, disappearing into the squad room.

Cragen looked down at the phone in his hand and began dialing. It was late, the Warden wasn't going to appreciate the interruption. He dismissed this concern, vowing to buy his friend a nice bottle of scotch. This couldn't wait.

* * *

><p>They walked through the trees, back to the cabin, until they reached the small clearing where the car was parked. Olivia stopped and looked down the dark, narrow path she'd driven down when she'd first arrived and then her eyes went to the black SUV. She stepped toward it and grabbed the door handle. It was open. She checked the ignition for keys, but they weren't there. She pulled the visor down, checked the cup holders, the glove box and the middle console. There were no keys in the car.<p>

"Zara why don't you get in, I'm going to go back inside and find the car keys."

Zara looked at her uncertainly, then opened the door to the back seat and climbed inside. Olivia watched her shut the door and gave her one last reassuring look before turning back to the cabin. She stepped under the cover of the porch and raised the gun, pushing the door open. She scanned the room again and stepped inside. Where would he put the keys? They hadn't been on him, probably because he hadn't been anywhere for a while. She went to the kitchen and began pulling out drawers, searching the counter, the table, even the cabinets. When she didn't find anything, she left the kitchen and went to the space around the fire, pulling the drawers out of the end table, checking the couch, the floor, finding nothing.

She scanned the room one last time, searching for something she might've missed. Her eyes fell on the mantel above the fireplace where there was an oversized green mug. She went to it, putting her gun down on the mantel, picking up the mug. She peered inside and then turned it over onto the piece of wood. The car keys fell out with a loud clang. She picked them up and her heart leapt as she stared down at them. It was over. It was all finally over. They were going home.

"Olivia." His voice echoed from below, jarring her out of her joyous moment, lilting playfully as if they were playing hide and seek and he was searching for her. "I can hear you up there."

She froze at the sound of his voice coming from the dark hole in the floor.

"You found her, didn't you?"

She was silent, still, caught between wanting to confirm his suspicion and a desire to flee from his voice, from him. But he continued before she could do either.

"You did." He chuckled. "Well, you can't blame me for trying. I should've known you would. You're determined…I'll give you that."

Olivia stood listening to him carry on a one-sided conversation, desperately wanting to run out the door, but unable to make her legs move.

"What're you waiting for, sweetheart? You know how this ends, it's either you or me and since you're the one with the gun right now, I guess that means it's you."

There was a flash of lightning and seconds later a low rumble of thunder, signaling the start of a storm. The wind howled outside and tree branches creaked as they were tossed about by powerful gusts.

"You could run, get your friends and I'll go back to prison. But it won't be over. I'll never stop coming for you."

She took a step closer to the square opening in the floor, staring down into the black depths, a battle raging inside her head. Her instincts were telling her to run. It was a feeling she couldn't quite explain. Something like being drawn into a spider's web. It didn't make any sense - he was restrained, he had no weapon. But even now, when she knew he was defenseless, he still had a hold on her, pulling fear from her effortlessly. Her legs started to give out and she leaned against the couch, listening to the rain come down with ferocity, replaying the horrors of the unnumbered days she'd spent in the cabin being tortured and raped. Her eyes dropped to the cuts on her legs, the burns…she saw him leaning over her, felt his breath on her face while he moved inside of her, taking everything from her.

She balled her fist up at her side, her jaw set in determination. He would never take anything from her again. Not her fear, her pain, her tears...nothing. He was right, there was only one way for this to end. As long as he was alive, she knew he'd keep coming for her, somehow, if not physically, then in her thoughts, her nightmares, in the marks on her skin or the warmth of a fire. Maybe he always would. Perhaps the damage he'd done was so severe there was no way around it. Still, she needed to know he was gone. She couldn't live a life with him out there, not after this.

She stared down into the room below a moment longer, another ground-shaking rumble of thunder breaking through the trance that'd taken hold of her mind. It was getting bad, Zara was waiting for her, she needed to hurry. The door flew open behind her, the room suddenly awash in the sound of the rain. She spun around, prepared to send Zara back to the car, but it wasn't Zara. Olivia froze, her heart racing, eyes wide at the appearance of the unknown man standing in the doorway feet from her. He was similarly paralyzed by her presence and she recognized a glimmer of shock in his eyes. She glanced toward the gun out of her periphery, then focused once more on the stranger in front of her, glaring suspiciously.

He held his hands up in an unthreatening gesture and started to ramble about hunting and the storm, but she could barely make out the words he was saying. It was the quality of his voice that she found herself concentrating on. It seemed familiar to her. Why? There was a loud pop from the fire next to her and her eyes skimmed down to the floor where a large red stain captured her gaze. Suddenly she was back in that moment, laying on the floor, a knife through her hand, listening to a stranger on the other side of the door. She could still hear his voice echoing in her head - a pleasant, silvery tone. A tone much like the one that was ringing in her ears now. It seemed the stranger was no longer outside the door.

_He's not going to help you. _Lewis' assertion repeated in her head and adrenaline began to surge through her body, every nerve alive, heart thundering, the sound of his voice a buzz of words she couldn't discern.

Her eyes flitted to her gun again, this time he followed her gaze and stopped mid sentence, his face turning up into a small, reassuring smile. "I'm not going to hurt you…"

He was still talking when she made her move, limping the last few steps to lunge for the gun. He moved when she did, his voice breaking off, rushing forward, getting there only a second after her. She grabbed the gun in her right hand, bringing it around to level at him. But his cold, wet hand encircled her wrist, forcing her arm up as she pulled the trigger. The sound was deafening, the feel of it more powerful than she remembered. It sent shock waves through her body. She tried to use her other hand to push him away, but he grabbed that wrist too and shoved her back against the mantel, the heat of the fire burning into her legs. He was thinner than Lewis, not as tall, not as strong, but at this point it was only varying degrees of strength while she barely had enough to remain upright. He let her momentum as she pushed against him carry her forward and then he shoved her back again, pain shooting through her shoulder. She cried out and leaned forward, still holding the gun firmly. He dropped her left wrist and grabbed her right hand with both of his hands, peeling her fingers off the gun. She was losing her grip and fast. She turned her back to him, pulling her right hand as far away from him as she could, hoping it would take away his leverage, but he adjusted, ending up with an arm on either side of her grasping at the gun. He was winning, her hands were slipping against his force.

"No," she cried out desperately. "Please don't do this."

He ripped the gun out of her grasp and put an arm across her chest, preventing her escape. "Sorry, but I can't let you leave."

She wanted to ask why, to understand what was happening, but something hard collided with her head and then there was nothing.

* * *

><p>She was running through the trees, her feet moving noiselessly over the wet ground, tears cascading down her face, mixing with the rain that fell from above. She just wanted to go home, Olivia said they were going home. But Olivia was gone. She'd gone into the house and then there'd been a loud bang. The gun. She'd wanted to run away when she heard it, but she'd waited for Olivia to come back. Except she never did. Someone else had walked out of the house. She didn't know who he was. She stopped running and looked back toward the cabin. <em>Should I go back? I need to help her. <em>But going back to the house, the man, the gun…it scared her. And Olivia told her to run away once before so she turned and ran now, her tears falling faster as she did. _Stay in the trees. Follow the path. _That was what Olivia had told her to do. But it was dark and raining, she could barely see anything. So she just kept running…away from the house, away from the man, away from the gun, away from Olivia.

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><p>The end. No, I don't know if that's a mean spot to leave off or not. If so, I apologize. But this chapter was bearable right?<p> 


	15. Chapter 15

My sincerest apologies for the long wait. I did my Ironman the first week of September and expected I would get back to work on this chapter right after I was done. My body had other ideas. Between the complete exhaustion and sickness, I was a zombie for about 2 weeks after and I kinda lost my focus. But then someone shared something amazing with me that I want to share with everyone. You may have seen it on twitter already, but if not, it's a Bait and Switch trailer made by svuxfanfic who is not only talented with videos as you will see after watching the trailer, but also a brilliant writer. The site won't let me link it in the actual chapter, so I've added it to my profile page. Enjoy the trailer and I hope you enjoy the chapter.

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><p>"I don't think I can look at another file," Brian said, rubbing his eyes.<p>

"I know. I can barely keep my eyes open."

"How does she do it?" Brian peered out of his periphery at Alicia who was on the phone, talking animatedly.

"I don't know," Nick said, shaking his head. "Whatever it is, I need some of it."

They grudgingly went back to their files, eyes wearily skimming over Simon Casey's records. A few minutes later, they heard Alicia thank the person on the other end of the line and hang up the phone.

"That sounded interesting," Nick said, still looking at the papers in front of him.

"It was. Caleb Shaw has quite the reputation according to the Chief of the Algonquin Police Department."

Both men lifted their heads, looking at her with interest.

"We already knew that didn't we," Brian asked. "I mean that's why you called him, his arrest record."

"Yes, but the arrests are just half of it. Isn't it interesting to you that he has no convictions?"

"A little, yeah," Brian conceded. "I figured it was probably just a case of terrible police work."

"I don't think so. It is a small town, so the department doesn't have the resources that we have, but I don't think it's for lack of trying," she explained. "According to the Chief, the problem is, and I quote, 'Shaw's a mean son of a bitch.'"

"So what?" Brian turned his palms up, his face contorting into a look of exasperation.

"So everyone's afraid of him. The charges either never get filed in the first place or they get dropped. Stories change, witnesses back out, threats, intimidation…you know the drill."

"Come on, he's one guy," Nick chimed in.

"I'm just telling you what he told me."

"I don't suppose they have any idea where he might be?"

She shook her head regretfully. "No. He said they'd keep their eyes and ears open, though."

"Did you ask him about Archer?"

"I did. Nothing," she said, her face falling as she said it. "He recognized the name, but that was it. I filled him in on the situation. I'm about to send over their pictures."

"Good idea," Nick said.

Alicia smiled. "I'm full of them. I already sent their pictures out to all the hospitals in the area, same with the county and city police departments…just in case they've been living under a rock for the past week."

"So what now," Brian asked, glancing between them.

Nick sighed. "I guess we keep going through these records. Right now they're all we have. But Shaw seems like he could be the kind of guy that might've known about Archer. We need to find him."

"I'm going to see if I can find someone with a connection to him. A wife, sibling, parent," Alicia suggested. "Maybe they'll know where he is."

They were silent for a moment, then Brian dropped his chin down into his hand and looked up at her. "Yeah, why not?"

Alicia turned back to her computer and her fingers began moving across the keyboard.

"What are we missing," Brian asked Nick, watching Alicia work at the computer.

Nick peered at Brian over the file. "What do you mean?"

"We've been following this trail from Archer, to Simon, to Shaw. We've checked all these guys out. And we find nothing."

"You think we're missing somebody?"

"I don't know. Maybe. We're missing something."

They both resumed skimming through the records, while the sound of the keys clicking under Alicia's fingers filled the silence around them. Nick read the page in front of him, but he couldn't seem to take any of it in, he was too busy thinking about what Brian had said. A few minutes later, he threw the file he was reading down onto the table.

"You're right." Nick leaned forward and brought his hands together in front of him, holding them to his lips. "We're missing something. This should be straight forward. We know what we're looking for. If it was one of these guys, we would've found it."

Brian looked up from the document in front of him. "Probably."

"Well we're striking out all over the place. Caleb Shaw isn't married. No kids. Parents both deceased. He's got a brother that lives in Alaska." Alicia informed them, not bothering to turn around.

"So much for that idea." Brian leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes momentarily.

"I need a break." Alicia picked up her mug and pushed herself away from the desk. "I'm gonna go grab more coffee. You guys want anything?"

"No," they mumbled in unison.

"Ok. I'll be right back."

Nick nodded his head, yawning and went back to reading. His eyes moved back and forth over the page, reading sentences two and three times occasionally when his sleep deprived brain didn't quite catch it all the first time around. He flipped the page and saw the back of the file. Another one done. He threw the file on the stack and picked up the next one. He opened it and started reading again, his eyes flying through the words and numbers until something jumped out at him.

"Wow."

"What," Brian asked.

"Kinda hard to believe his company survived."

Brian lifted his head. "What do you mean?"

"Look at this," Nick said, handing him the file. "Check out the purchase price and the sale price. They lost big on it."

"Damn. That had to hurt. But that's just one property."

"Yeah. Still, I wouldn't want any part of that business. You just never know with that stuff. Too much risk."

"A lot of reward, though," Brian reminded him. "I mean that building was something else. They're obviously not hurting now."

"No they're not," Nick agreed, flipping the page.

"Simon Casey's a suspect?"

Nick flinched at the sound of the unfamiliar voice and glanced up into the face of a tall, dark-skinned man, wearing a grey suit. He was pointing to the picture of Simon on the board.

He noted Nick's bewildered expression and extended his hand. "Detective Strickland. New York State Police."

"Nice to meet you. Nick Amaro, NYPD," Nick grasped his hand. He motioned to Brian. "Detective Brian Cassidy."

Strickland held out his hand to Brian and Brian reciprocated the gesture.

"Sorry, I don't mean to intrude. Alicia filled us in on your case when you all got here. I got a little curious when I saw his picture on the board."

"You know him," Nick asked.

"Not well. Mostly just what I hear," Strickland replied. "But my partner does. He's been good friends with his father for years."

"What's your take on him," Brian asked.

Strickland shrugged. "He seems like a decent guy. He's done a lot for this city with his business and personally. He even started a scholarship in his wife's name for students going into education. My oldest daughter got it last year. For that reason alone I think the guy's great," he laughed.

Nick smiled. "Understandable. Luckily I've got some years before mine gets there."

For just an instant, he'd managed to forget. But as soon as the words left his mouth, it all came crashing back down on him and he remembered that Zara was gone and everything that he ever imagined for the future, watching her grow, go to high school, college, get married. It was all in jeopardy. The smile faded from his face and his eyes dropped to the floor. There was an uncomfortable silence that was finally broken by Strickland's voice.

"Now him? He's another story."

Strickland frowned, pointing to Alicia's computer screen where a picture of Caleb Shaw was visible.

"Yeah, we've heard," Nick noted.

"Hey Strickland," Brian started, "what happened to Casey's wife?"

Strickland started to answer, then looked beyond them, pointing across the room.

"Hey, we've got something."

Nick and Brian both turned their heads at the sound of Alicia's voice, seeing her approach with a piece of paper in hand.

"What," Nick asked eagerly.

"You remember the Honda Civic Lewis stole from that parking lot after he ditched the car from the hospital."

They both nodded.

"It turned up at a house in a neighboring town. The owners are on vacation and one of their kids went to check on the house - found the car in the garage, signs of a break in. And their SUV is missing."

"You have the address," Brian asked.

"Right here," Alicia said, holding up a slip of paper.

"Let's go." Nick pulled his coat from the back of the chair and turned back to Strickland. "It was nice to meet you."

"You too. Hope you find them."

"Thanks."

He jogged a few strides to catch up with Brian and Alicia, who were almost out the door, and fell in beside them, his feet shuffling along quickly. Gone was the exhaustion that'd not so long ago consumed his body. Now adrenaline coursed through his veins and he had to fight the urge to run through the hallway. This was it. This was the lead they'd been looking for. It had to be. _  
><em>

* * *

><p>Awareness came to her quickly, a resonant echo of her last memory still in her head, hands on her body, voices in her ears. She fought against the hands that were restraining her, but they were everywhere and they held her down, easily deflecting her struggle.<p>

"Hurry up."

That voice. It was vaguely familiar. Her eyes opened and she found herself staring up into the face of the stranger who she'd struggled with before she'd been swallowed by oblivion. She knew instinctively from the light and the chill in the air that she was no longer upstairs. They'd put her on the mattress, she could feel it's softness beneath her. Her arms were forced over her head and she felt the cuffs encircle her wrists. At the same time, the familiar heaviness of the chain was wrapped around her ankle. She looked down her body to where Lewis was securing the padlock through the links as he'd done so many times. He looked up at her, smiled, then took a piece of rope and secured her other ankle. When he was done, he pushed himself to his feet and took a step back. She tore her gaze from him and sought out the face of the other man again. He'd finished restraining her hands and was moving toward Lewis.

"We need to talk."

"Who are you," she interjected, her eyes following him, voice pleading. "Why are you doing this?"

He stopped and turned back to her, but he offered no response.

"You two haven't been formally introduced," Lewis said, pointing to the stranger. "This is Simon. A friend of Archer's and technically the owner of this place."

Olivia's brows furrowed in confusion. She looked to Simon, examining his face, trying to acquire some measure of understanding as to why he would help Lewis.

"Listen to me, I don't know what he has on you, but you don't want to do this. I'm an NYPD Sergeant. There are a lot of people looking for me," she told him. "They're going to find me and when they do, you don't want to be caught up in this. It's not too late to do the right thing. Please just help me."

Simon regarded her with cold indifference. "If I let you go, you'll bring the cops back here. They'll start asking questions I don't want them to ask. I could lose everything." He glanced at Lewis and then back to Olivia. "It comes down to a choice between you and me. I choose me."

Lewis folded his arms across his chest, watching their exchange with amusement.

"Didn't I say he wouldn't help you?"

Olivia ignored him and lifted her head off the mattress, wanting to look directly into Simon's eyes. "I have a brother named Simon," she started, using her most understanding, empathetic tone. "He's made mistakes, some big ones. But I know deep down he's a good man and he wants to do the right thing. I think you're like him. I think you're a good guy who's caught up in a bad situation. Whatever you've done, I can help you…"

Lewis' laugh interrupted her plea. "A good guy. That's funny considering how you ended up down here again."

"Simon, please. Please don't do this."

Simon stared at her blankly, his face giving no indication that her words had affected him. He took a step closer to her, his eyes traveling up the length of her body, eyes lingering at the spot where her hands were cuffed and tied to the rings. Lewis leaned against the wall, watching him with interest.

"Not the first time you've been down here, is it Simon?"

Simon's eyes flickered from Lewis to Olivia...a hint of something there, something decidedly not good. She felt a rising panic as he continued to watch her.

"Yeah, Archer told me everything. You want a turn? Go ahead. Show her what a good guy you are."

The words seemed to carry Simon away. For a brief moment he was lost in them, in some memory that they evoked for him, and then he was back. His eyes raking over Olivia, an intensity in them that terrified her. A scream of desperation was threatening to climb out of her chest, a gnawing anxiousness consuming her entire body.

"No." He kept his eyes on Olivia, shaking his head, then he turned to Lewis. "You need to leave."

Olivia exhaled lightly in relief, the tension in her body lessening slightly.

Lewis' face took on a vaguely annoyed scowl. "I'll leave when I'm done."

"You need to leave now. The cops came by my office today asking questions about Archer and about you."

There was a flicker of surprise in Lewis' face, but it passed quickly and a smug smirk replaced it. "They don't know anything."

"They know plenty. The only reason they're not here right now is because they can't make the connection. But they're in town, they're looking for something connected to Archer. And if they manage to find this place, you can't be here…they can't be here." Simon pointed to Olivia, then turned his eyes up to the ceiling. "We need to find the girl."

"We will. Olivia knows where she is, don't you sweetheart?"

Lewis turned to Olivia, fixing her with an appraising stare. "Where's Zara hiding?"

She glared at him.

Lewis moved to her side swiftly, putting his foot against her ribs and pressing down. She let out an unintelligible protest of pain as his foot continued to put pressure on her ribs.

"Where is she?"

Olivia clenched her jaw and closed her eyes when he increased the pressure.

"Go to hell," she gasped through the pain.

"We need to find her. Now," Simon insisted urgently. "She'll bring the cops back here."

Lewis took his foot away from Olivia's side and turned his head to look at Simon, exasperated. "We're in the middle of the forest, it's dark, it's storming, she's 7. Relax. She's not going to make it out of here alive."

"You don't know that. This is my life, my freedom you're risking. I don't care if you're Archer's friend. I don't care what he told you. We need to find the girl and you need to go."

Lewis stared down at Olivia, an intensity in his eyes that she recognized. The same look he had when he was ready to inflict pain. She could feel the anger radiating from him. He moved his head from side to side in annoyance.

"Ok, fine," he muttered, spinning on the spot to face Simon. "We'll go find her. I'm sure she's hiding around here somewhere. But I leave when I'm done."

"I want you gone." Simon's words were confident, firm, but there was an underlying sense of nervousness beneath the surface. He shifted anxiously under Lewis' gaze, reaffirming his grip on the gun at his side.

Lewis tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. "You going to shoot me, Simon," he asked menacingly, moving slowly toward the smaller man.

Simon's eyebrows arched in exasperation and he started to speak, but Lewis cut him off. "Maybe that seems like a good idea to you. I do know your secrets."

Lewis stopped directly in front of Simon, glancing at the gun in his hand, then up into Simon's uncertain face. "But that would leave you with a mess to clean up." He folded his arms across his chest. "Do you have the balls to kill a cop and a little girl? Because I don't think you do."

Simon leaned to the side, peering at Olivia around Lewis' form. He stared at her for a brief moment, then turned back to Lewis, handing him the gun.

"I didn't think so," Lewis sneered as he reached down, taking the gun from Simon's hand.

"I had no intention of shooting you. If you remember I'm the one that saved your ass," Simon reminded him. "Let's just focus on finding the girl."

Lewis motioned to the ladder, an unvocalized invitation for Simon to go first. He did so, hesitantly, stealing one final glance at Lewis, who'd made his way back to Olivia's side. When Simon disappeared up the stairs, Lewis turned to Olivia, a gleam of pure malice in his eyes.

"This shouldn't take long. She's probably still out there somewhere waiting for you to come back. Even if she's not, she couldn't have gotten far. We'll find her."

Olivia turned her head away from him, pretending not to hear his words, but all she could think about was Zara in that car, waiting for her. Was she still there? Had she run away when she saw Simon? Olivia wasn't sure which outcome she was hoping for. Because if she ran? She would be lost and alone in the forest in the middle of a storm. That was dangerous. There were so many things that could happen to her. But if Zara was still in the SUV, that meant Lewis would find her and in that moment, that possibility seemed more dangerous than anything.

Lewis knelt beside her and grabbed her chin, turning her head toward him. "I bet you were feeling pretty proud of yourself, weren't you? Picking that lock, knocking me out, finding Zara. It must've seemed like you'd won again. You were close, I'll give you that," he conceded, putting the gun to her cheek, pushing in lightly. "I hope it was worth it. Zara's going to be the one that pays now."

Alarm flashed in Olivia's eyes. "No…"

Lewis put a finger to her lips and leaned down further so he was eye level with her, staring purposefully into her eyes as he spoke. "Don't worry. I'm not going to kill her yet." He took his finger away from her mouth while she watched him with terrified, confused eyes. "That would be a waste. I want you to see her suffer first." He put the gun to her thigh and pushed against one of the stab wounds. She inhaled sharply at the jolt of pain in her leg. "I'm going to do things to her that will make you wish I'd put that bullet in her head instead of the dirt."

Her stomach rolled. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. After all, what was she going to do...beg, reason, demand? She knew better, it wouldn't matter what she said. She closed her mouth, still looking at him warily. He smirked in the wake of her silence and pushed himself to his feet.

Lewis turned and took a couple of steps toward the ladder, then spun back to face her, returning to her side, a finger held up in front of him.

"Do you remember that movie about the crazy lady who keeps a guy locked up in her house," he asked, squinting as if it was something vague he could barely recall. "She makes him write a book. And when he tries to escape, she breaks his ankles with a sledgehammer."

She stared blankly back at him, a sense of dread weighing heavily on her.

"I guess it's lucky for you I don't have a sledgehammer. What was that movie called? I can never seem to remember."

He looked at her expectantly, but she didn't answer.

"Come on," he coaxed, hovering threateningly near her middle, the toe of his boot pressed lightly against her side. "I know you remember, I can see it in your eyes."

He pushed in on her ribs.

"Misery," she choked out.

"There it is," he said, shaking his finger at her. He moved to stand at the foot of the mattress. "That's it. Misery." She watched the corners of his mouth slowly turn up into a smile and then, without warning, he lifted his foot and brought it down on her right ankle.

There was a sickening crack that rang in her ears, mingling with her own scream. She squeezed her eyes shut, face twisted in agony, pulling on restraints that she knew would not break, desperately reaching for her ankle as if the ability to touch it would offer some relief from the anguish she was in. Her breaths were shaky and labored as she attempted to breathe through the haze of pain that'd seized her body. When she finally managed to open her eyes, she hesitantly looked down to her feet. It wasn't the gruesome sight she expected, her ankle looked almost normal, but it'd clearly already begun to swell and she had little doubt that it was broken. She stared at her foot a moment longer before tearing her eyes away because somehow seeing the damage made the intensity of the pain that much worse. Lewis lowered himself near her feet and put his hand on her ankle, squeezing.

"I guess I didn't need a sledgehammer after all."

A moan of pain escaped her lips. She wanted to close her eyes, the agony was overwhelming, but she was too scared to look away, fearing there would be more coming.

"What do you think? Should I do the other one, too," he asked, eyeing her left foot.

"No," she cried, choking back a sob.

"No? Ok. We'll leave it at that for now. I do need to find Zara."

He released her ankle and got to his feet.

"I'll be back. Don't go anywhere."

He winked, then turned and went to the ladder, flipping the light off on his way.

When he was gone, she released a long puffs of air and concentrated on trying to move her foot, testing it, only to be met with more intense pain. She whimpered and dropped her head back down on the mattress, staring up into the dark, exhaling deeply, clenching her jaw against the waves of pain that wouldn't stop. She tried to focus her mind on something else, but the only thing she registered beyond the constant throb, was the echo of Lewis' voice in her head.

_I'm going to bring her back here and do things to her that will make you wish I'd put that bullet in her head instead of the dirt._

There wasn't a shred of doubt in her mind that he would do just that. Because as much as he enjoyed torturing her, he knew what would cut the deepest. And it wasn't her own pain. He'd known that all along. It was the reason he'd taken Zara in the first place. He'd used the fear of what he could to Zara to get what he wanted from her. Now he would wield Zara's pain as a weapon to bring her to her knees. In all the time she'd spent there, she wasn't sure she'd ever felt more desperate or terrified.

_I can't do this_, she thought. _I can't watch him hurt Zara._ _I won't survive it. I'll lose my mind.__  
><em>

Olivia tugged at the restraints. She moved her hands within the cuffs, grasping for the rope, hoping by some miracle she would be able to get ahold of it and free herself, but she couldn't reach it. She used her left foot to push against the ground, scooting her body closer to the wall, careful not to jostle her ankle, but she'd only managed a few inches when the rope became taut against it and she had to stop. She released a sob of frustration and despair, yanking on her hands one last time, feeling the metal cut into her already bruised wrists. Her body relaxed in defeat, acceptance of her reality beginning to settle in. There would be no escape. The time for that had come and gone, her freedom had been within her grasp and she'd let it slip through her fingers. She remembered the hope and relief she'd felt stepping out of the cabin for the first time, thinking it was all over. Now the memory of that moment was like acid in her veins, burning her insides, consuming the last remnants of hope that she'd held on to. She turned her head to the side, staring into the dark which cloaked the all too familiar concrete walls. Beyond them lay the world. A world she'd once belonged to. A world that, not so long ago, she'd seen, felt, tasted for the briefest of moments before it'd been ripped away from her. She didn't think she'd ever see that world again. Her body began to tremble, her face fell into despair, sobs of sorrow and loss moving her body. There was nothing left. She had nothing left.

* * *

><p>The squad room was quiet, the desks empty. Most of the occupants had long ago abandoned their posts for the comfort of their homes, their beds. Some of them for the street because crime hadn't stopped in the city, though it felt like it should've. It all left her feeling a little irritated. How could they? It wasn't the call of home or a bed that brought it on. It was their ability to shut it all off as if it was just another case. To walk out the door and not look back…just leave all of it behind. They probably slept, too.<p>

Amanda scanned the empty desks until her eyes came to rest on Olivia's. How could they?

It wasn't that she thought they were bad cops or bad people. She understood, she did. Cragen had ordered everyone home. There were no leads except the ones Nick and Brian were following. The case wasn't in the city, it was miles away and they were left to sit and wait with nothing to follow up on and half a prayer that the brass would agree to Archer's terms. There was nothing more they could do. But she couldn't fathom walking out of that room and away from the case until Olivia and Zara were found. Why would she bother? It didn't matter if she was at home, the bar, hell even a blackjack table wouldn't be enough to distract her at this point. Besides, the thought of retreating to the comfort of her apartment, showering, sleeping. As inviting as it was, it also felt all wrong. Because wherever Olivia and Zara were, they weren't comfortable or clean. They probably didn't sleep. And those things, those basic human needs, were the least of their worries. So sitting in her hard, uncomfortable chair, in desperate need of a shower and sleep, tirelessly searching for a way to to find them was the least she could do.

Amanda peered into the Captain's office, observing the older man standing at the window, gazing through the blinds out into the night. He'd been quiet since he'd ordered everyone to leave, sternly adding that he expected them back bright and early, insistent that tomorrow would be their day. The day everything turned around, the day they found Olivia and Zara. Looking at him now, his drawn face, his defeated posture. It was clear to her that he didn't believe a word he'd said. She wasn't sure she did either. It'd been days. Too many days. And the same familiar feeling of failure that'd plagued them months ago had found its way to them again. The truth of those four days was that they'd been nowhere near finding Olivia at that beach house. If not for her incredible strength and will, there was no telling how the ordeal would've ended. She didn't like to think about that. Were they really any closer to finding Olivia and Zara now? She didn't like to think about that either.

That silent rumination brought her back to the screen in front of her. She studied it intently, scanning the patchwork of green, orange and the occasional blue. She dragged the mouse and watched the distribution of colors change.

"What are you looking at?" Fin's voice came from behind her.

She glanced over her shoulder at him, then turned back to the screen, her hand on the mouse. "It's a GIS map. A lot of counties have them available online."

"Why?"

"Lots of reasons. Land use data, flood zones."

"Ok, but why are you looking at it?"

"Watch this," she clicked once on the left side of the screen and the map changed, "The green…that's all forest in Rensselaer County."

"Rensselaer…where Nick and Brian are."

"Exactly."

"That's a lot of forest."

"Yeah," Amanda agreed dejectedly. "Which makes going through these a lot more difficult." She clicked on the left side of the screen again and the map was immediately divided into a number of sections with numbers inside them.

"What'd you do," Fin asked, looking at the screen uncertainly.

"These are all tax parcels. I click on one of them and I get all the information about the land...acreage, address, buildings on the property, and most importantly - the owner."

Fin scowled at her. "Neat trick, but isn't there an easier way to do that? Nick and Brian already ran a search on Casey and Shaw. They didn't come up with anything. You expecting to find something they didn't?"

"No."

"Then what are you doing exactly? You planning to search every one of those things? For what?"

"I don't know, Fin. A miracle? At least this way I feel like I'm doing something."

Fin grabbed a chair and settled in at the side of her desk. "Yeah, I understand," he said wearily, putting his elbow onto the desk and dropping his chin into his hand.

She studied his face carefully. He looked exhausted, anxious, lost even. It wasn't like him. Fin was never lost. Fin was a rock. Steadfast and unwavering, strong in the face of the most daunting situations. It was unsettling for her to see him so shaken.

"Hey, you doing ok?"

He paused momentarily, lifting his eyes to meet hers. "Yeah, I'm good."

"Are you," she asked skeptically. "Because I'm not. And I've only worked with her for 3 years, not 14."

He stared at Olivia's empty desk, then turned back to Amanda. "What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know," she answered. "You don't have to say anything. I'm just worried about my partner."

"I'm not the one you gotta be worried about," he told her. It was a little too short, gruff even. She recognized it for what it was, an attempt to deflect. He didn't want to talk about it. Maybe he couldn't. She, on the other hand, needed to talk about it. Because if she didn't, then the dialogue took place inside her head. And the conversations inside her own head were somehow worse than the ones she could vocalize with anyone else. But she wasn't about to push the issue.

They sat in silence. Fin staring at the floor, Amanda at her computer screen. The faint ticking of the wall clock counting out every passing second. A reminder that there was more than one clock ticking. But unlike the clock on the wall, the clock for Olivia and Zara was an unknown. There was no telling how much time they had left. A day? Two? Three? Or had they already run out of time? The mere idea of that being a reality felt like a blow to her stomach. Suddenly she couldn't breathe. She put her hands flat against the desk and took a steadying breath. _No. I'm not going there._ She started to push away from her desk, in need of fresh air, when Fin's voice stopped her.

"Liv has been through a lot. I've seen her come away from some bad stuff even before Lewis." He finally raised his eyes to meet hers. Amanda thought she knew what he meant. Olivia had once mentioned an assault during an interview. She nodded, wordlessly signaling she had some understanding of what he was telling her. "All those times it never occurred to me that she might not make it. But now it's like every day that passes, her and Zara both slip further away from us."

Amanda gazed at her partner while he averted his eyes to her computer screen. She wanted to offer him some comfort, to be the rock that he'd always been for her, but how could she offer something which she couldn't even summon for herself? They got lost in the stillness of the squad room, both silent, the continued tick of the wall clock the only sound around them. At some point, Fin turned to stare at it and she wondered if it left him with the same ominous sense of doom that it did her.

Amanda got to her feet abruptly and went to the wall, pointing up at the clock. "Can you reach that?"

"You serious?"

"Hell yes," she confirmed with some enthusiasm.

Fin stood and approached the wall. He stretched as far as he could, just managing to slide his fingers beneath the clock and pull it from where it hung. He handed it to Amanda who preceded to remove the batteries from it. When she was finished she paused to listen to the silence, a look of relief spreading over her face. She put the clock down on a desk and turned to find Fin staring at her.

"What?"

"Taking out the batteries doesn't stop time."

"I'm not trying to stop time, Fin. Just a ticking clock."

* * *

><p>"One, two, three, four, five, six…" She whispered the numbers aloud, counting the seconds as they passed with her eyes closed. She'd resorted to this some time ago, though she couldn't be sure what had prompted it. Maybe it was her desperation for some sense of the time as it passed. An urgency to know how long Lewis and Simon had been hunting Zara. Or maybe it was because she couldn't stand the way her mind screamed in the silence. But it wasn't just the pain of her broken ankle that had her bordering on hysteria. It was also the distress of her own realizations. She'd been trapped in a nightmare all along just waiting to wake up because she knew she had to. But when she did she'd finally realized that reality was the nightmare, that hope was a dream and the idea of escape was a mirage. Those were the ideas that haunted her mind, bleeding into every silent moment. The ones that left her yearning for a distraction, lest she be swallowed by the darkness of them. So she counted. The repetition of the numbers serving as a mantra that occupied her mind, calming the swirl of chaos that swam in her head.<p>

"fifty-nine, sixty." She paused and then started over again.

Her head was pounding, her ankle throbbing and every muscle in her body ached. She tried to relax them, hoping it would offer some relief from the hurt she felt in her shoulders that came from having her hands restrained over her head, but there was no respite from the pain. They'd been that way for too long, a burning numbness that she couldn't escape no matter how she moved and twisted. She grimaced as she arched her body backward, trying to relieve some of the strain for a moment, but it did no good. How much longer would she be stuck like this? The idea that it could be for the rest of what was left of her life sent another wave of panic surging through her body. She returned her attention to the numbers, focusing on each one as she said them.

"Thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three…" She broke off at the sound of a thud that came from above. Her body tensed and she held her breath at the sound of footsteps. She could make out two sets and she knew Simon must've returned with Lewis. The footsteps stopped at the door above the ladder and there were voices. She strained to hear what they were saying, but the conversation was hushed and she couldn't discern anything from their muffled exchange. It didn't matter, she held only one question in her mind. Had they found Zara? The answer to that question would undoubtedly be revealed soon. She prayed with everything she had the answer was no.

Suddenly, the voices grew louder and a small stream of light appeared in the room. They were coming. A few seconds later, she heard boots on the ladder, then the light was flipped on and she saw Lewis standing at the bottom, alone.

He approached her slowly, his face unreadable, gun in hand. Her body tensed in anticipation, searching his face for some indication of what'd happened, then she looked past him to where Simon was descending the ladder. Simon's feet hit the ground and he turned to face them, meeting her eyes for only a split second.

"She got away," Olivia stated with the slightest hint of a question, unable to hide the relief in her voice.

Lewis regarded her as if she was a child that'd said something naïve, grinning as he dropped down on his heels beside her. "I know what you're thinking. Zara got to the road, she got help. It's only a matter of time before they come find you."

Olivia stared back impassively, an undeniable sense that a hammer was about to drop.

"It's not gonna happen. See, there's a bridge on that road. It's not too far from here. And that storm, all that rain, it flooded the river. The bridge is impassible. The road's been closed. That means even if Zara made it to the road, and she didn't, there's no one out there to help her." He paused and let his words sink in. "Help isn't coming Olivia. And Zara? Chances are she doesn't make it. And if she manages to survive the night? I'll find her when the sun comes up. Either way, I win."

She shook her head in denial. "Someone will find her."

"Listen to you trying to convince yourself, " he sneered. "You don't even believe that fantasy."

"Yes I do," she challenged, putting as much confidence in the words as she could muster. "You said I'd never get out of here, but you were wrong. I did. You're wrong about her, too. She'll make it."

_She has to._

He was right. It sounded more like she was trying to convince herself, than something she was stating as a certainty. The truth was she was terrified for Zara. The thought of her out there - alone, scared, surrounded by danger...it tore her apart. And she felt guilty. She was supposed to protect her...she'd had Zara's hand within her grasp and she let go. She never should've let go. But she had to believe that wherever Zara was, as perilous as it may be, as scared as she may be, it had to be better than the alternative. It had to be better than Williams Lewis.

Anger flashed in Lewis' eyes at the reminder of his failure. He got to his feet and stared down at her, eyes burning with fury. But in the next second, the fury was replaced by a gleeful smile. He chuckled softly and turned his head to look at Simon as if he expected to find him joining in the laughter, but Simon's face was expressionless.

Lewis turned his gaze back to Olivia. "We'll see about that," he challenged. "But until then, I can spend a little time reminding you what I'm going to do to Zara when I find her."

Olivia's body tensed. Her eyes found Simon, a final silent plea for help that was turned away by the diversion of his gaze to the floor. Lewis spun to face Simon.

"I don't usually have an audience. Well, sometimes I do. Right Olivia," Lewis taunted, glancing over his shoulder at her. Recognition flashed in Olivia's eyes and she diverted her gaze from him. "But if watching is your thing..."

"I'm not comfortable with this."

"With what," Lewis asked. "Are you feeling sorry for her? The pretty face getting to you..."

"I'm not comfortable knowing the girl is still out there," Simon said loudly, speaking over him. "You might be ok with making assumptions and risking prison again, but you're not taking me down with you."

"We were on that road. She's not out there. You know why? She's hiding. She's scared and alone, she's got nowhere to go, no one's around to help her. We wait until morning and she won't be able to hide anymore. But if you're so worried about it, then go look for her. Nothing's stopping you."

"How much would it take for you to end this and leave? Or keep her alive and take her somewhere else," he said motioning to Olivia, "I don't care. As long as you're not here."

"What makes you think I'm interested in money?"

"Everyone's interested in money," Simon told him. "And seeing how you just escaped from prison. Something tells me you could use it - unless you're planning to turn yourself in when you're finished with her."

Lewis chuckled. "That's not going to happen."

"Didn't think so. I'm willing to give you whatever you need, I just need you to give me something in return."

Lewis turned away from Simon and went back to Olivia's side. She listened to their exchange helplessly, aware that they were deciding her fate, bargaining over her murder like an animal that could be purchased for slaughter. And there was nothing she could do to stop it. Even more disturbing to her was the fact that in some strange way, she was relying on Lewis to keep her alive. Because if Simon got his way, she'd be dead and gone before morning came. But Lewis didn't want her dead. Not yet. Now more than ever, he craved her suffering. That would be the thing that kept her alive. It was horrific in it's irony. And as she considered the ways in which he had and would continue to torture her, she found herself wondering if her logic was flawed. Maybe Simon should get his way.

Lewis knelt beside Olivia and set the gun on the floor. "You should know better Simon. All that time you spent with Archer…would he have given up one of his girls for money?" His eyes dropped to Olivia. He reached out and ran his fingers across the bruises he'd left on her neck, seemingly mesmerized. "Some things are priceless." He waited a beat, then turned his head. "I'm not done with her yet."

"What is your obsession with this cop? Get rid of her, get out of town, grab another girl. It's not that hard," Simon exclaimed. "God, how could Archer have ever trusted someone so stupid?"

Lewis picked up the gun and raised it for Simon to see. "You should be careful. Some people might say you're the stupid one right now."

Simon froze. Fear replacing the tension that'd lined his face. He held his hands up in front of him.

"I'm just messing with you," Lewis laughed, lowering the gun. "I don't need to shoot you, it's not like you're going to the cops."

"Of course not."

"We're in this together. Aren't we?"

Simon offered a small, hesitant nod. "I should go," he said quietly.

"You're going to miss all the fun," Lewis reminded him. "You sure you want to leave? What about that bridge?"

"It's east, I'm going west." Simon went to the ladder, then turned back to Lewis. "Just think about what I said."

Lewis watched Simon ascend the ladder. When he'd reached the top, Lewis glanced over his shoulder to Olivia, then turned and followed Simon up the ladder.

She heard one set of footsteps, then another and she could barely make out voices before she heard the door slam. She laid motionless, trying to keep her breaths shallow, noiseless, straining to hear anything coming from above, expecting the sound of a gunshot at any minute. But it never came. She waited and waited until finally the door slammed again, and the heavy thud of boots against the wood floor echoed down to her.

Olivia watched as Lewis' feet came into view, descending the rungs of the ladder. When he reached the bottom, he stood still with his back to her for a brief moment then he spun slowly toward her, grinning, a knife in hand. Her breath hitched at the sight of it, every nerve in her body sparking to life, crying out in fear. He began sauntering toward her, holding the knife to his finger tip. He stopped when he was standing over her, staring at the blade in hand then shifting his gaze to her, the grin still plastered to his face.

"Alone again."

* * *

><p>Ted and Amy Allen had a quiet place in the country, surrounded by trees, out of the view of the distant neighbors on both sides. The house was charming even at night, an old two story house with big picture windows, a wrap around porch and the quintessential white picket fence. The house was unnaturally bright for that time of the day. But this was no ordinary day. Light shone through the windows illuminating a scene of people hurriedly moving about the house, officers with flashlights searched the yard, police cars sat parked in the drive way. There was a constant buzz in the house and out and that buzz sounded a lot like Lewis.<p>

Nick, Brian and Alicia stepped out of the house and followed CSU down the porch steps and toward their cars. They came to a stop in the driveway, gazing into the open garage at the Honda Civic William Lewis had left behind.

"Two cars registered to them, the daughter says it was a 2011 Black Toyota RAV4 that was stolen," Nick told them. "Got the plate information and there's a BOLO out on it."

"Doesn't look like he spent much time here," Brian added. "And the car wasn't the only thing he took. Looks like he raided the house for whatever he needed."

"Smart move," Alicia said. "Gets what he needs without anyone seeing him. The couple are on a month-long cruise. It was the perfect place to hide the car. If the daughter hadn't dropped by, it wouldn't have been found until they came back."

"How'd he know they were on vacation, though?"

"Maybe he didn't," Brian suggested. "Not like Lewis would have a problem with breaking in and getting rid of witnesses."

"No, he wouldn't. But like Alicia said, it was a little too perfect. I think he knew they weren't going to be there."

"Maybe someone told him? We should show his picture around town."

Nick nodded his head in agreement.

The shrill ring of a phone echoed from Alicia's coat. "Sorry, let me get this." They watched her step away, then turned back around to face the garage, still focused on the one vestige of Lewis' intrusion.

"This is something," Nick said hopefully. "I kept wondering if we'd gotten the Archer thing wrong. What would we do? But this proves we didn't. Lewis is here somewhere and now we know what he's driving."

"Yeah, I just don't know how much help that's going to be. What are the chances he's out taking a joy ride?" Brian shifted his weight, looking back at the house. "He probably got everything he needed here. If he doesn't have a reason to leave, maybe he doesn't and that means we're still left searching for Archer's place."

Nick hung his head, recognizing this as a truth, despite his enthusiasm. They registered the sound of shoes on concrete and turned to see Alicia practically sprinting toward them, phone in hand.

"What," he asked apprehensively. "What's wrong?"

"You remember I said I sent Olivia and Zara's pictures to the hospitals in the area," she asked, sounding slightly out of breath.

Nick nodded.

She held up her phone, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "I just got a call from St. Mary's Hospital. A girl was just brought in matching Zara's description."

* * *

><p>Hopefully the next chapter isn't far away. I've already got part of it written so I'm optimistic about it.<p> 


	16. Chapter 16

So here we are again. Finally. What is there to say really? I'm pretty terrible at this updating thing. And it didn't help that this chapter was more uncooperative than most. This is a new long, not that it's a good thing because it takes a ridiculously long time to read. My apologies for that. Also, it's a bit different in that the chapter is broken up into more scenes that are shorter than normal. That's not a big difference but it worked better this way for the passage of time. It's always difficult for me to judge what I write - I'd say this is a rough chapter mostly because it's pretty relentless, but there's nothing too graphic in here. So with all that said, disclaimers and there are two. The first, please excuse any mistakes I make with the medical or police knowledge. I do my best to research what I write, but I'm not an expert on either. And the other one...this chapter contains some violence and rape. I'm sorry.

* * *

><p><em>Alone again.<em>

She couldn't tear her eyes from the knife in his hand, nor could she find a way to stop her heart from racing out of control, pounding so violently her body seemed to shake with each thundering beat.

"Did you kill him?"

"Does it matter," he asked, inclining his head to the side. "Either way, he's not helping you. No one is."

It didn't matter. Simon wanted her dead. He wanted Zara dead. And while he didn't appear to be willing to take their lives himself, he'd certainly bargained for it, said everything he could to make it happen. Anything to save himself. Even now that he was gone, his guilt was no less because he'd left her with Lewis knowing exactly what would happen to her. Every horror that Lewis visited on her from here on out would only be possible because Simon had made it so. Whether he was dead or alive now, it didn't matter to her. Simon was merely a distraction, words she could say to fill the silence, to take her focus off the knife in Lewis' hand. It was taunting her. She could almost feel the familiar cold metal against her, the pain of it tearing across her flesh. It left her with a gnawing panic that seemed to crawl under her skin, into every part of her body, until it felt like that panic would rip her apart from the inside out.

Olivia watched him take a step closer to her, bringing his free hand up to touch the cut on his forehead. He flinched at the contact, pulled his fingers away and examined them. He moved his hand to the back of his head, rubbing gingerly.

"That was some hit." He dropped his hand to his side and cast an accusing glare at her. "You're gonna pay for that."

And there it was, the truth that she already knew, the promise she'd been waiting for, finally spoken aloud. He was going to make her pay…for all of it. For her short-lived escape, for Zara's…every sin real or imagined would be a reason for her suffering, as if he'd ever needed one. He wanted her broken and she'd teetered on the edge of it before, standing on a ledge, gazing down into the expanse below. She knew if he'd wanted it from her, he could've taken it. One more push, that was all it would've taken. But it was a game, his favorite game, and he'd wanted to keep playing. Was he still playing? Judging by the malicious look in his eyes, he wasn't. He was angry, humiliated in his own right by her escape. He would push her to that edge again, only this time he wouldn't let her come back from the ledge, this time he'd keep pushing until she fell, shattering into pieces against the ground below, destroyed. And there was nothing she could do to stop it.

"I'm sorry," she whispered quietly, squeezing her eyes shut. She wasn't sure who she was apologizing to...him, herself, the people she loved. Maybe it was all three.

Lewis dropped down on his heels beside her, holding the knife against her cheek. "I know you are," he said in an almost empathetic tone. "But it's too late for that now."

He moved the knife down so the tip was against her neck.

"You know you're lucky," he told her. "If anyone else had done that, I'd have killed them without a second thought."

She stared back at him in confusion, flinching at the feel of the knife digging into her throat.

"Why," she asked.

"Why what? Why didn't I kill you?" A twisted smile spread over his face. "I like you."

Her face contorted into a look of exasperation and disbelief. "You're insane. You like to torture me."

He pursued his lips in contemplation, shrugging his shoulders. "It's all relative. Whatever you want to call it, we have something, you and I. We're like two opposing forces drawn together. It was there from the first day in that interrogation room."

Lewis trailed the knife lazily from her neck down to her collarbone, watching her intently.

"Do you remember that day?"

Olivia averted her gaze from him, the intensity of his stare, the memories of another time, another life, another person. She didn't want to think about it, remember it, because the memories of that life made her ache for something that would never be again.

"Hmm?" He put the tip of the blade into her shoulder. She flinched as she felt the knife break her skin.

"Yes," she answered quickly. How could she not?

"Yes," he repeated. "I do, too." He leaned down closer to her, his eyes traveling the length of her body, leering. "I wanted you from the minute you walked in the room." He raised an eyebrow, put the knife to the collar of her shirt and began cutting it down the middle.

"But it wasn't just this," he said, running the knife between her breasts, smiling. He finally pulled the knife away and focused on her face. "When I looked into your eyes, there was no fear there. You were so sure of yourself - nothing but contempt for me." He laughed scornfully and leaned in closer, whispering. "That was when I knew I had to have you. I wanted to put fear in your eyes. I wanted to watch you shatter into pieces."

He grabbed her chin in his hand, studying her face. "There it is." His eyes were locked on hers, reveling in the thing that he'd instilled in her.

He released his grip on her chin and she quickly turned her head away from him. He smirked at this, watching her try in vain to hide away from him when she had nowhere to go.

"What a difference a year makes," he said wistfully. "You must wonder how different your life would be if Amanda had never been in the park that day."

She could see him watching her expectantly out of her periphery, waiting for confirmation of this assertion. She turned her head back so that she was looking into his eyes.

"No, I don't," she challenged.

"Really?" His voice held the same mild sense of surprise that showed on his face. "That's a surprise."

"I wouldn't change that day. You needed to be stopped."

Lewis chuckled. "Is that right? Well, how's that working out for you?" He continued to laugh, clearly amused by the irony of her statement.

"Whatever happens to me, it's over for you. My squad won't stop until they find you."

"You're probably right about that. But even they have their boundaries. All I have to do is make it out of the country and the slate is wiped clean," he told her smugly.

"Where do you think I should go?" He put the knife against her side, beginning to drag it up her body. "North? To Canada? It's probably a nice place. Friendly people, beautiful scenery." He smiled as he stopped the progression of the knife, resting it at the corner of her mouth. "But Canada's cold and I like the heat." He started moving the knife down her body. "Maybe I'll go south. To Mexico." He trailed the knife down her stomach over her shirt, tearing small holes into it in places where he applied pressure. Finally he stopped when he held the knife between her legs, running the blade up and down against her. "You remember how much I love the beach."

She froze, her muscles tense, breath held, eyes locked on his face, terrified of what he might do.

"No," she whispered, her voice pleading.

"No," he repeated in a questioning, patronizing voice, as if he didn't understand why she would protest. "I guess I'll have to go somewhere else then."

He pulled the knife away from her and leaned back, watching with satisfaction as she registered his words. She closed her eyes momentarily and then opened them again, a shiver running through her body.

"Cold sweetheart?" He tucked the knife away and stood abruptly. "Don't worry, I'm gonna warm you up."

He went to her feet and grabbed hold of her ankle. She whimpered in pain, balling her hands into fists as he began untying the rope from her ankle. When he was finished, he withdrew the key from his pocket and put it in the padlock at her other ankle, freeing her from the chain. Her eyes never strayed from him, even as he finished at her feet and moved up to her hands, she turned her head and watched him. Finally he finished and took a few steps back, staring down at her while she stared back at him uneasily, hesitant to make a move, unsure where this was headed, waiting for the hammer to drop. Still, as ominous a feeling as it was, she couldn't deny that the ability to move was a relief and in some small way it assuaged her panic.

"Get up," he demanded. His eyes went to the ceiling and then returned to her, an evil smile twisting his features."We're taking this party upstairs."

She pushed herself to a sitting position and braced herself against the wall, gazing at him fearfully.

"You can get up or I can make you get up," he growled. "It's your choice."

Olivia hesitated a moment longer, then she scooted her body off the mattress. She began to push herself up, leaning against the wall, her weight resting solely on her left leg. She managed to get herself upright, braced against the wall, staring into the space ahead with uncertainty. She took a tentative step forward and then another, putting as little weight on her ankle as possible, attempting to limp to the ladder. But her ankle wasn't the only injury she was suffering from. Her left leg was too weak and when she could no longer maintain all the weight on it, she fell to the ground with a cry of pain.

"Looks like that's not going to work. I guess you'll have to crawl. Unless you want some help," he suggested casually, watching her struggle to get to her feet again. "You remember how helpful I can be."

She ignored his taunts and continued with her attempt to stand. She was almost upright again when Lewis stomped forward and kicked out at her, knocking her to the ground. She fell to the floor, onto her back, hands flying to her ribs, wincing in pain.

"I don't think so. I want to see you crawl." She gazed up at him as he appeared over her, a hint of amusement in his face. "I like it when you're on your knees."

She pushed herself up off of her back and glared at him.

"I could always break the other one," he threatened, staring at her ankle.

She stared ahead unfocused, defeated, resigned. Yes, he could. And he would. Gladly. She couldn't fight this, he'd get what he wanted eventually. He always did. And what was she fighting for? Her dignity? Her humanity? He'd stripped those things from her a long time ago. She was fighting for nothing.

Olivia maneuvered onto her side using her elbow and rolled to her knees, handcuffed hands braced beneath her. She crawled the last few feet to ladder, grateful it was over almost as soon as it'd started. She couldn't bring herself to look at his face, to see the smugness that she knew would be there, it would be too much, it hurt enough as it was.

She grabbed hold of the ladder and started to get to her feet when she felt his fingers in her hair, yanking her back, throwing her to the ground. She cried out in surprise.

"We're not quite done here."

Before she could move she felt his hand in her hair again, pulling her up to her knees. He stood in front of her, smiling maliciously down at her, running the back of his hand down her cheek, stroking it gently while she winced at his touch. She was completely helpless, waiting for the misery that she knew was coming, fighting the urge to break down and cry. Lewis quickly pulled his hand away and swung the back of his hand across her face, striking her on the cheek. She was knocked off balance, head turning with the force of the blow, but she managed not to fall to the floor.

"That was hitting for me."

She sat up and put her fingers to her cheek, staring at him, unwilling to make any further moves for fear of what he'd do.

"And this," she watched his hand move to his zipper, rubbing himself through his jeans, "well, it's like I said. I like it when you're on your knees."

He began to unbutton his pants, while she shook her head, her face collapsing into sorrow. He pulled the zipper down and took himself out, moving closer to her.

"You should enjoy this. It might be the only painless part of your night."

* * *

><p>The room was quiet, dark, gloomy as hospital rooms tended to be. It emanated sterility, disconnect and a certain lack of warmth. Grey walls, beige floors, a decidedly uncontroversial blue sofa situated beneath the window where the shade blocked out the breaking light of morning. There was a painting across the room on the wall of a ship being tossed on the waves of an ocean storm. It was an odd image for a hospital room, he thought. Wouldn't flowers or butterflies be more appropriate? Then again, somehow the image was perfect for this day, this room. It spoke to him, told him a story that he now knew the ending to. A story of a ship that'd been swept away by a storm, lost at sea. A ship that'd found it's way out of the storm, back home. He let out a sigh of relief. She was really there. He couldn't help but smile a bit as he listened to the light inhale and exhale of her breaths as she lay asleep on the bed in the center of the room. She looked so small against the full-size bed, like she was drowning in it. The white sheets and blue blankets draped over her like waves that were swallowing her up, pulling her under into the swell. His eyes traveled down to his own hand, wrapped around her small one and marveled at the feel of it. It was beautiful and yet, in that moment he realized how incredibly fragile his world was. His gaze lingered there a moment longer and then moved to the other side of the bed where the bright pink cast covered her arm, a stark reminder that despite her miraculous return, she had not come out of the ordeal unscathed. A cold dread washed over him as he considered this. What else was there? What'd happened to her in those days, how had she escaped and where was Olivia? There were so many questions swirling in his head and there would be no answers until she woke.<p>

Nick grimaced in frustration and went back to watching her for any trace of movement, re-memorizing every detail of Zara's face. Her little up-turned nose, the arch of her eyebrows, the hint of dimples in her cheeks. The relief he felt as he inventoried the features of her precious face, a face he'd been so afraid he'd never see again...it was enough to make him want to get down on his knees and thank God in that very room. But that would require letting go of her hand and he wasn't sure he'd ever be ready for that.

He heard the door open and the nurse, Tonya, entered the room. She hummed softly and offered him a pleasant smile as she went to Zara's bedside and began examining her ID bracelet.

"And how is Miss Zara doing?"

"Still out," Nick said, sounding frustrated. "How much longer until she wakes up?"

"It should be anytime," Tonya answered, lifting the IV bag, switching it with another. "I can only imagine how difficult this must be for you. To be missing her that long and then get here and not be able to talk to her."

"Yeah," he agreed. "But she's alive and that's the most important thing." His eyes dropped to the cast on Zara's arm. "I understand why they had to sedate her."

Tonya secured the IV bag to the stand and checked the line into Zara's arm. "Bless her heart, I don't know how she managed to use that arm to push those ER doctors and nurses away. It must've been excruciating. Both of those bones are broken completely. She could've done more damage." Tonya's eyes went to Zara's face. "It makes sense now, why she was so afraid."

"I'm just grateful to everyone who took care of her. And, of course, to you all taking care of her now."

"Of course," Tonya smiled, her hands stilling for a moment. She turned to Nick. "Is Olivia here?"

Nick's eyes snapped up to Tonya, his throat suddenly dry, sticky, requiring an enormous effort to expel words from his tongue. "What?"

"Your daughter kept asking for Olivia before the sedative kicked in. My friend in the ER said she just kept repeating her name." Tonya stopped abruptly, a sheepish look on her face, seeming to sense, from the look on Nick's, that she'd waded into something far more heavy than she'd imagined. "I'm sorry, you don't have to answer that. It's none of my business. I thought…I'm sorry." She put her hands up in an apologetic gesture.

"No, it's ok." Nick cleared his throat of the emotion that was creeping in. "Olivia is…she's my partner. She was taken by the same man who took Zara. She's still missing."

Tonya's mouth dropped open in surprise. She glanced at Zara and then back to Nick. "I'm so sorry," she said genuinely.

"Me too," Nick mumbled, gaze fixed on Zara.

There was a brief moment of silence, in which Tonya seemed to be paralyzed by what he'd told her, her eyes locked on Zara. But finally she snapped out of her daze and went back to work.

"We're going to give your daughter more fluid and hopefully when she wakes up, we can rehydrate her without the IV and get her eating something."

Tonya lifted the blanket slightly, probing at a bandage that was wrapped around Zara's leg. Nick pushed out of his chair and peered over the bed at the wound.

"Is everything okay," he asked nervously.

"She's gonna be just fine," Tonya assured him. "You've got one tough little girl here."

"She must get it from her mom," he replied, letting the corners of his mouth turn up slightly, settling back into his chair.

Tonya laughed good-naturedly and turned around to drop some garbage into the medical waste bin. Then she removed her gloves, disposing of them as well, before turning back to Nick.

"Do you have any more questions?"

Nick glanced up to Tonya. "None that I can think of."

"Well if you think of something, my number's on the board and you have the call button - don't hesitate to use it."

"Thank you."

He watched Tonya walk out of the room, into the hallway and then turned his attention back to his daughter, observing the rise and fall of her chest, finding the repetition of it soothed him. He put his lips to the back of her hand and leaned in closer to her, his arms braced on the bed, studying her face for the slightest indication that she was coming back to consciousness. Minutes passed, his eyes felt heavy, he might've fallen asleep if not for the chorus of hospital music ringing in the air around him; the faint laughter from the nurses station, slamming doors, hurried footsteps in the hallway and the intermittent beeps of alarms sounding in surrounding rooms. _If only all that noise would wake you up_, he thought, more than a little impatient. And for brief minute, as he noted the furrow of her eyebrows and the clench of her hand in his, he thought maybe it had.

"Zara, it's okay," he whispered, bringing his hand up to stroke her cheek. "I'm here."

He watched her eagerly, willing her to wake, to open those eyes that he was so desperate to see. But it became clear that whatever had stirred within her, it wasn't the end of her sleep as he'd hoped. He sighed in disappointment, but he told himself it would be short-lived - soon she would open her eyes, soon she would talk to him and soon he'd have the answers to the questions that plagued him.

Nick leaned forward, dropping his head onto the hospital bed next to her, his hand still wrapped around hers, eyes glued to her sleeping form, murmuring words of comfort.

"It's okay. Daddy's here."

* * *

><p>Brian leaned against the wall in front of the elevators, staring down at the notepad in front of him, re-reading the details of the interview he'd conducted hours ago. Two teenage girls driving on a road that they weren't meant to be on. That was the reason Zara was alive right now and not still out on that country road, in a daze, with a broken arm, maybe worse.<p>

"Cassidy hey," said a familiar voice in front of him.

He looked up to find Fin, Amanda and Maria exiting one of the elevators.

"Hey, I didn't think you guys would be here yet. I was just going down to get some coffee."

"We left as soon as you called," Fin explained.

"Is Zara awake," Maria asked him.

"No, I don't think so," he answered. "She was just moved up here about an hour ago, Nick's in there with her. He hasn't been out yet. You know the room number?"

"429."

Brian offered a confirmatory nod and watched Maria walk quickly toward the double doors.

Brian turned back to find Fin and Amanda staring at him expectantly.

"What do we know," Fin asked him.

Brian motioned for them to follow him and they began walking down the hallway, taking a left and then a quick right into a room with a couple of tables, some chairs, a sofa, tv and a small kitchen area. He turned to face them and glanced down to the notebook in front of him. "I interviewed the girls that brought Zara in."

"Were they able to give you a location?"

"A general one. But with the storm, the dark, and the urgency to get Zara to the hospital, they couldn't tell me where exactly they were."

Their faces fell at this news.

"So we've still got a lot of ground to cover?"

"Not necessarily. There's a river east of the city that flooded last night. The bridge was impassable. County cops put out a sign that the road would be closed, but the girls ignored it. Thought they'd be able to get through."

"I take it they didn't," Amanda said with a smirk.

"No, they got to the bridge, saw how high the river was and turned around. They found Zara on the way back after they hit a branch and pulled over to check on the car."

"So we know Zara was found west of the bridge."

"Yeah. And that narrows it down quite a bit."

"Did Zara say anything to them?"

Brian shook his head.

"I don't know about you guys, but I don't think we should advertise the fact that Zara's here. We don't know what kind of information Lewis has access to…if he's keeping track of the news, listening to radio. If he hears about Zara…"

She couldn't finish the thought. It wasn't something that needed to be said aloud.

They both nodded their agreement, eyes lowered.

Amanda turned to Brian. "How are you doing?"

"Fine." Brian exhaled and moved his head from side to side. "I'm happy Zara's okay. I just….I keep wondering why wasn't Liv with her? What happened?"

He took a few steps away from them, giving the appearance of pacing, until he turned back and rejoined them. "We're so close. I feel like I should be out there looking for her, not standing here."

Fin held a hand up. "Hey, I'm with you, but we both know it's not that simple."

"I know," Brian admitted dejectedly. "Alicia says the State Police are getting a search team together as we speak, but all the property along that road is private which means we have to get permission to enter. And there's still enough ground to cover, they want to send a helicopter up to search."

"I don't like it," Amanda interjected, shaking her head, her lip between her teeth. "Lewis isn't stupid. Zara got away, he's gotta be feeling a little jumpy. If he hears the helicopter, he'll know we're coming and we know what happens to Olivia."

"Which is why we shut that down for now. That's all forest land, covered in trees. It's unlikely the helicopter would be able to see much anyway."

Amanda let out a breath and relaxed her posture. "Good."

"Hopefully Zara can tell us something."

Brian noted their matching looks of skepticism. "What?"

"If those girls couldn't tell you where they found Zara, chances are, Zara's not going to be able to tell us that."

Brian rubbed his eyes with his thumb and pointer finger. "Yeah, I know. You're right."

"There may be something else we can use to narrow down the location, though." Amanda turned to Fin. "You remember what I was showing you last night?"

"The map thing," Fin asked.

"Yeah. We know Zara was found on that road before the bridge so wherever Lewis is keeping Liv must be along there somewhere. It shouldn't take too long to go through those properties. It's a long shot that we'll make a connection, but I think it's worth a try."

"That's a good idea," Fin agreed.

"What is?" The voice came from behind them and they all spun to find Nick standing in front of them, a light in his eyes that they hadn't seen for days.

"Nick, hey. How's Zara," Amanda asked.

Nick turned back to look at the double doors and then returned his gaze to their anxious faces. "She's awake."

* * *

><p>"<em>Olivia!"<em>

"_Olivia, come out, come out wherever you are!"_

_The small voice rang out around her, carrying with the wind, through the trees, surrounding her. It'd started to sprinkle. She knew they should go home, but one last game wouldn't hurt. Besides, she liked the rain. She watched the girl in her pink t-shirt and jeans, creeping through the trees, giggling softly to herself as the girl passed by the bush she was hidden behind. Drops of moisture fell onto her face, running into her eyes, her mouth, her nose. She wiped the wetness away and prepared to move, eyeing a nearby tree._

"_Come find me, __Nicole," she whispered daringly, taunting her._

_Nicole spun in a circle, a smile on her face, searching for the source of the voice. When she failed to find it, she turned back and continued forward._

"_Olivia, I'm going to find you." Nicole's voice lilted playfully._

_Olivia snuck a final look at her friend and dashed from behind the bush toward the tree. Nicole whipped around quickly and squealed in delight._

"_I found you!"_

_Olivia shrieked, put a hand to her mouth and then dissolved into laughter. Nicole ran to her and poked her arm good-naturedly._

"_Your turn now."_

"_Ok, but then I better go home."_

"_Ok," the girl agreed, her eyes shining with excitement._

_Olivia walked to the nearest tree, put her arm against it, dropped her head onto her arm and began counting._

"_1, 2, 3…"_

_She heard the sound of laughter and hurried footsteps. She smiled to herself. This was going to be easy._

"_28, 29, 30…"_

_The wind gusted fiercely, forcing her closer to the tree, the roar of it so loud it sounded like an ocean wave breaking against a beach. She shivered and brought her hands into her chest, dropping her head to the ground as she continued to count._

"_45, 46, 47…"_

_The leaves rustled above her, whispering their secrets to the air around them. She opened her eyes and stared at the grass as she continued to say the numbers aloud._

"_58, 59, 60." She lifted her head and quickly scanned her surroundings. "Ready or not, here I come!"_

_She began jogging through the trees calling her name, searching for her. She went to a large boulder first, the one Nicole always hid behind, but when she rounded the corner Nicole wasn't there._

"_Nicole!"_

"_Nicole, where are you," she sing-songed, searching behind every tree, every bush, every bench she encountered until finally she ran out of them._

_She galloped back in the other direction, past the tree where she'd counted._

"_Nicole!" There was a slight edge to her voice now._

_The rain started falling harder and she began running faster._

"_Nicole! Just come out, you win! We need to go home!"_

_She ran further ahead, toward some picnic tables, the soccer fields, the pond. The pond. And that's when she saw it, a hint of pink against the deep blue of the water's surface._

"_Nicole," she screamed._

_She ran as fast as she could, lungs burning, muscles straining. She reached the water and crashed into it's murky depths without hesitation. It was cold, so cold it felt difficult to move, to breathe. She splashed forward looking for a trace of pink, but it was gone. The rain was coming down hard, she couldn't see. She flailed forward to where she'd last seen the pink shirt, but she couldn't find it. The longer she spent in the frigid water, the more her muscles seemed to be unwilling to move. She spun in a circle, looking for her friend, but she saw nothing. She attempted to swim for the shore, but she couldn't make it. She panicked, she felt herself sinking under the water, drowning in the icy darkness of it, watching the light disappear above her..._

"Nicole," she gasped as she came to, wet, cold, fighting against invisible hands that encircled her throat, trying to breathe. The water was in her mouth, her nose, she inhaled it, choked on it. She struggled to escape it's grasp, but something was holding her under and she couldn't seem to open her eyes to find out what it was. Or where she was. She detected light through her closed lids. The water was clean. And the smell - it didn't smell like the outside, it smelled like smoke. This was not the pond. There was a voice and it was calling to her, telling her to do something, but she couldn't quite make out the words. They were muffled. She moved her head, coughing and sputtering, trying to find some way to draw breath and to her surprise, she finally did. Slowly her senses began to return to her…she registered the sound of running water, felt a hand on the back of her head and the hard floor beneath her. In that moment, it all rushed back to her and instinctively she knew where she was and whose forceful hand held her down.

Olivia opened her eyes to find herself staring at stained white tile. She looked around, taking in the dingy shower around her - the rusted metal, the curtain-less rod, the brown that ran between the spaces of the tiles, forming a large mass of dirt and grime in the corners. She sat in a puddle of water that was slowly draining away while the cold spray coming out of the shower head continued to soak her hair, her shirt, her body.

"Welcome back," Lewis said from outside the shower. "Didn't want you to miss all the fun."

She backed into the corner, against the wall, as far out of the stream of water as she could get. Her body was wracked by a series of shivers and she brought her arms into her chest, finding as much warmth as she could manage. Her head was pounding, nausea churned her stomach, her vision blurry. She caught sight of deep red against the white tile in her periphery and her eyes dropped to the floor to see her blood intermingling with the clear water, circling lazily toward the drain.

Lewis reached a hand inside the shower, turned off the water and stared at her. She could feel his eyes on her, peering into her, examining some intangible quality within her. Whatever he found there, he liked, because when she chanced a glance up at him, a grin spread over his face.

"Who's Nicole?"

She hesitated. Not because it mattered if he knew about her childhood memory but because she thought it revealed something about the state of her mind.

"N - no one," she answered, body trembling.

"A secret, huh? Okay. Those have a way of coming out."

Her teeth chattered together and she cringed as her wounds burned at the contact with the water.

"Well, now that you're awake, I think we should get started again, don't you?"

"Please no," she croaked weakly. "No more."

"We're not done, sweetheart. Not even close."

He reached for her, but she pressed herself further into the corner of the shower, as if she could evade him.

"Just end it," she told him in a resigned, quiet voice.

"End what?" He crouched down so he was eye level with her. "You're gonna have to be more specific. Cutting you? Burning you? Raping you?"

Olivia drew her knees into her chest, her body shaking in response to the damp cold. She took a labored breath and put her head down. Emotion flooded into her voice. "I can't take anymore." She shook her head from side to side as if answering some question that only she'd heard.

"Well that's too bad," he said in a low voice. "Because I've got a lot more left to give. You didn't think you were gonna get off easy after what you pulled, did you?

"Please," she pleaded.

"Please," he mocked. "You know, it's music to my ears hearing you beg like that. You lasted a lot longer than the others, but I knew we'd get here eventually."

Olivia rested her head against the wall, letting it take a turn at holding the weight of it, which all the sudden seemed entirely too heavy. She peered at Lewis through slits, her vision narrowed to the point where she could see only him and the rest of the room faded into black.

"Oh no. No going to sleep on me." He stood and grabbed hold of her arms, hauling upright. "Come on. Time to get up."

She let out a weak moan of protest as he pulled her from the shower and up against his body. Instinctively, her eyes sought out light and she turned her head to look out the window where the sun was beginning to rise. He noticed her distraction and put his face near hers while she stared outside.

"Don't you worry about that," he said softly. "We've still got time." He dragged her out the bathroom door, into the hallway, water dripping from her body onto the wood floor. She continued to struggle against him, making a feeble attempt at slipping free from his arms, desperate to keep him from getting her back to her hell in front of the fire.

"You don't want my help? Fine." He pushed her forward onto the floor where she collided with the hard wood with a loud crash. She couldn't seem to move and she didn't bother trying, everything hurt and her body was too exhausted.

Olivia heard his footsteps and felt him press his boot against her side, nudging her.

"Move."

"I can't," she whimpered, not even bothering to lift her head.

Suddenly her right side exploded into pain as his boot collided with her ribs. She couldn't scream or cry, those things required the ability to breathe and her lungs appeared to have failed at that task. Her eyes closed, her face twisted in agony as she rolled onto her left side and brought her handcuffed hands to her ribs, attempting to shield them from any further attack. She gasped frantically for air and finally managed to inhale a ragged, deep breath, filling her lungs with oxygen once more.

"Look at that. I guess you can move after all. Now, let's try this again."

Her body was shaking, her head spinning. She thought she might be sick, but even that might've required too much effort. He was waiting for her to move, but she couldn't. Her muscles were useless, her limbs were dead weight, the only thing her body still did with any proficiency was draw breath and even that seemed precarious at best.

"Oh, I get it," he said, peevishly. "You think if you piss me off, I'll kill you." She felt his hands grasp her underneath her arms again and pull her up. "Think again, sweetheart."

He dragged her forward and pushed her up against the couch, her weight resting on it, his body flush against her back. He put his mouth to her ear, the warmth of his breath causing her to shudder. "You've got to be alive so you can watch while I do this to Zara."

One of his hands released it's grip on her, while the other held her against the couch and a second later her shirt was being pushed up. She felt his skin against hers, the length of him pressed into her, letting her know what was coming. As if she didn't know.

"I'll be a gentleman about this and let you choose," he said with his mouth at her neck, his body rocking against her. "How do you want it?"

"I don't want this," she cried, choking on her sobs, answering a question that he'd never cared to ask and never would.

"Wrong answer." He leaned back, running his hand down her back and lower still. "I guess that means it's my choice."

She braced herself for pain and though she didn't think she had it left within her, a scream of unimaginable agony tore free from her lips as he entered her with a single thrust so violent she thought she'd surely been ripped in half. Her hands clenched around the fabric of the couch, her knuckles bloodless, white, in stark contrast to the brown material. He began moving, each thrust eliciting another broken, pained cry. At some point, her screams of agony faded away and her head dropped down onto the back of the couch as he moved inside her - dismantling her mind, breaking her body, scraping the depths of her hollow soul. Droplets of water fell from her hair, her face, cascading down from her clothes, forming a puddle on the cushion below. It reminded her of her memory, the pond. The numbness, the calm, the darkness of it's depths. Of Nicole, sinking down into them, embraced by the water, into sleep. She thought she could hear Nicole now, beckoning to her, calling her to that dark, cold place. If only she could go there.

"_Olivia, come out, come out wherever you are!"_

_Come find me Nicole. Please come find me._

* * *

><p>When had time stopped, he wondered. At the very least it must've slowed to an indiscernible crawl, every second that passed stretching so long it felt like hours had gone by. It was ironic given that time had seemed to be moving at break neck speed for days, racing towards some unknown finish line, each sunrise and sunset coming too quickly for him because it meant another twenty four hours had passed - one thousand four hundred forty four more minutes she was with him, suffering. Time was fickle that way, he supposed, but he'd had enough of it's variable nature. His impatience was mounting, as evidenced by the incessant tapping of his fingers against the table, drumming out a rhythm of restlessness.<p>

Fin and Amanda had opted for distraction to pass the time. Amanda's computer was open on the table and she was studying a map on the screen. Fin alternated between staring at Amanda's computer and talking on the phone, updating the Captain on everything they'd found out since they got there.

Brian grabbed the cup of coffee in front of him, took a sip, set it back down and began tapping his fingers again. He noticed Fin staring at him out of the corner of his eye and turned to face him. Fin's eyes dropped to his fingers moving against the table, the look on his face a silent request for an end to the noise.

"Sorry." Brian put his hands flat against the table, pushed away from it and stood up, beginning to pace the room. "I just wish we knew if she's said anything about Liv."

"The doctor had to check her out first. And Nick will let us know when she does," Amanda assured him.

"This is a waste of time. Maybe I should go meet up with the search team."

"You do what you gotta do," Fin told him. "But I think we all know that right now that search is too big. We need to do the work to figure out where they're at."

Brian stopped near the refrigerator and banged his fist against the door.

"What's wrong," Nick asked, entering the room, seeming to sense the tension.

"Nothing," Brian said, shaking his head. "Did she tell you anything?"

"Not yet. I haven't asked many questions," he explained. "The doctor was checking her out and I don't want to overwhelm her."

"Is she okay," Amanda asked him.

"Yeah, I mean the doc says she's good. Nothing too serious. The dehydration and the arm are the worst of it."

"Did you ask her about...I mean did she say if Lewis..." Amanda cringed as she said the words, her voice trailing off. She didn't want to finish the question. It was too horrible to imagine.

"No," Nick answered loudly, clearly horrified by the implication. "He didn't...No." His voice came back to it's normal volume, his brows furrowing in concern.

"That's good," Amanda sighed in relief, putting a hand to her heart.

"Yeah. I told her you guys wanted to see her."

"Are you sure," Fin asked him.

"Yeah. She loves you guys, she'll be happy to see you," he told Fin. "And..those very large balloons." He pointed to the bouquet of balloons tied to a stuffed teddy bear. "Wow."

"Blame Rollins for that one."

Nick chuckled to himself, but his face turned serious as if he'd caught himself doing something he wasn't allowed to do.

"I just hope she can help us find Liv."

He glanced between the three of them, all of them nodding somberly.

"Ok, let's go."

They followed him out of the room, down the hall to room 429. With his hand on the door knob, he glanced back to them and then opened the door and led them inside.

"Zara, look who's here," Nick said brightly, motioning to Amanda, Fin and Brian entering behind him.

"Hey Zara," Amanda said gently, stepping forward to place the teddy bear and balloons on the table next to her. "We brought you these. It's good to see you."

Zara glanced from Amanda to the balloons, staring at them for only a few seconds before dropping her eyes back to the bed.

Amanda looked to Nick who shook his head helplessly. "She's not saying much," he whispered. Amanda glanced back at Zara and then stepped back while Nick went to sit beside her on the bed.

"Zara," he started, taking her hand. "We need to ask you some questions about what happened after Lewis took you. Do you think you can tell us about that?"

Zara offered no response. She merely stared down at the blanket covering her, seemingly lost in the depths of the deep blue color of the material. Even the touch of her hand felt distant.

"Honey I know you're scared, but you're safe now. I promise," he told her, leaning down to her level.

Zara kept her eyes down, unwilling or unable to acknowledge him.

Nick stood up, walked over to a bag Maria had brought with her, reached inside and pulled out the stuffed snow leopard, Maya. He walked back to Zara's side and held it up for her to see.

"Hey, look what your mom brought with her." He set Maya next to her and stepped back, hoping this might be the thing that would break her out of the shell she'd retreated into. "I bet you missed her. She missed you." Zara turned and stared at Maya. Her eyes became wide and horror-filled. She reached out and pushed the stuffed animal off the bed, onto the ground.

Nick glanced helplessly from Maria to where Fin, Amanda and Brian stood across the room and then finally back to Zara.

Nick grabbed her hands. "Mija please talk to me." Zara stared off the bed where she'd pushed Maya, a far away look in her eyes. Nick moved his face in front of hers. "I need your help, Zara. Olivia needs your help." He paused when she went completely still, waiting to see if she would say something. The mention of Olivia seemed to have gotten through to her and he was reminded of what Tonya told him. Zara would only say her name. He continued cautiously. "Is Olivia still with Lewis?"

Zara squeezed her eyes shut, opened them, then slowly lifted her gaze, eyes shining with unshed tears. She nodded her head.

"She is." He repeated her non-verbal confirmation with relief, encouraged by the fact that was responding again. "Ok, that's good. You're doing good," he reassured her, squeezing her hands gently. "The place where Lewis took you, where he has Olivia, do you remember what it looks like? Did you see any signs?"

Zara shook her head.

"That's ok," he assured her, though he couldn't deny the overwhelming sense of disappointment that he felt. "Did Lewis let you go? Is that how you got to the road?"

She moved her head from side to side, staring down at the blanket again. Of course he hadn't, Nick thought, mentally chastising himself for wasting Zara's fragile inclination to answer on a question with so obvious an answer.

"Can you tell me how you got away?"

Zara lifted her head slightly and looked at Brian.

Nick watched his daughter, her eyes focused on Brian and he instinctively understood the association. "Olivia? She helped you get away?"

Zara looked up into Nick's face and nodded.

"If Liv helped her escape, why wasn't she with her," Fin asked of no one in particular.

"Because of the man," Zara whispered in a voice so small, they could barely be sure they'd heard it at all.

Nick's head whipped back to Zara, elated to hear her voice, shocked at the implication of her words.

"The man? You mean Lewis?"

Zara shook her head.

Nick put a hand on her cheek, beckoning her to look at him. "There was another man there?"

Zara offered a confirmatory nod. Nick glanced over his shoulder at the squad who appeared to be as stunned as he felt.

"Can you tell me what the man looked like?"

Her eyes dropped away from his, her face falling in disappointment, her head moving just slightly from side to side. She clearly understood how important the answer was to him and it upset her that she had nothing to offer.

"That's ok," he assured her and then he continued probing further. "How do you know it was because of the man?"

She hesitated, her eyes sweeping over their faces before she put her head down again. "Olivia said we were going home. She went inside the house to find the keys. But the man came and he went inside, too," she answered softly, her voice giving way to emotion. "I heard a loud noise, like a gun."

Zara started to cry. Large, clear drops trailed down her cheeks. "I waited for her, but she never came back." She bowed her head as if she'd just admitted to something terrible. Nick grabbed her and wrapped his arms around her body, feeling her shoulders shake as the damn of emotion broke. It was all he could do not to break down and cry with her. He ran a soothing hand up and down her back, the way he'd done when she was younger to coax her to sleep. He held her like this while Maria looked on with concerned eyes, running her fingers through Zara's hair from the other side of the bed. He turned his head to look at the Fin, Amanda and Brian - they were reeling, the horror and fear so clearly etched into their faces. He felt Zara pull away from him and he reluctantly released her, gazing down into her tear-stained face.

She looked up at Nick, her once innocent eyes, now haunted by ghosts of those missing days. "Is Olivia dead?"

Nick found himself instinctively glancing back to the squad again, looking for some confirmation of the answer that he was poised to give her. And though they looked devastated and blindsided, he saw the same resolve in their eyes.

"No," he answered gently. "She's not. We're going to find her. I promise."

* * *

><p>Morning had long since broken. The sun had risen into the sky. Yellow rays of light flooded into the room, through the windows, illuminating her body against the floor. The fire flickered feebly in the fireplace next to her, it's warmth slowly waning, only scant patches of orange visible where the embers continued to burn. The air around her was stale, a foul odor assaulting her nostrils, making her feel sick - a mixture of sweat, blood and vomit. Her eyes rolled to the left, to the source of the stench, vomit and blood staining the wood, seeping into the cracks of the floor. She was shivering, but her body burned while it froze. The wood was hard and unforgiving beneath her. The added weight of his body caused her to scrape unmercifully against it. And it creaked. It was the most appalling thing she'd ever heard. Every sound a brash reminder of her reality, beckoning her to awareness each time she'd managed to fade away.<p>

Finally the creaking stopped and his movements stilled. He put his hands against her legs and pushed himself up and away from her. She rolled onto her side, toward the fire, curling into herself, seeking out some comfort that she'd never find. She heard him moving behind her, felt the vibration of his footsteps on the floor, sensed his nearness.

"It's getting light out," he said, slightly out of breath. "I should be out looking for Zara."

He grabbed his pants off the floor and began pulling them on.

"But we were having so much fun, I just couldn't tear myself away from you." He buttoned his pants and scanned the floor looking for his shirt. When he spotted it on the couch he took a few steps toward it, picked it up, and pulled it over his head. He put his boots on, then crouched beside her, patting her leg, a cruel smirk twisting his face. "You could probably use the break, huh?"

He moved his hand to a particularly bad burn on her side, running his fingers over it. Olivia seemed to barely register his touch, his words, the pain. Her eyes were open, they stared distantly at the stone base of the fireplace, breaths coming out slow and shallow. When he failed to get a reaction, Lewis' hand moved lower, between her legs, to another burn that he'd inflicted on her, running his fingers over it, threatening more. She squeezed her eyes shut, offering a meek whimper of protest that was prompted, not by pain, which it seemed she'd finally become mostly numb to, but to the prospect of the continued invasion of her body.

"Good," he said happily, putting his hand against her cheek. "You're still with me."

"I'm going to find Zara," he told her. "And when I get back, all you'll have to do is watch."

Olivia kept her eyes closed, struggling to hear what he was saying to her, but it was like she was submerged in water and he was speaking to her from above it. Nothing was clear.

"Now, we've just got get you back down there. I can't have you running off." He paused. "Well, maybe not running, but you know what I mean," he chuckled.

He grabbed her arms and pulled her up until he was able to grasp underneath them. He began dragging her toward the door to the basement. When he reached it, he maneuvered her body into position but found her weight to be utterly dead.

"You're really out of it, huh?" He studied her face, contemplating her condition. He slapped her face a couple of times, but it didn't rouse her from the state she was in. Lewis scanned the cabin, searching the room for something. When he found it, he let her weight drop to the ground with a small thump. He went into the kitchen, grabbed a chair and dragged it back to where she lay. He pulled her up and lifted her into the chair, undoing the handcuffs and re-securing them around the back of it. When he was done he tied her feet to the chair with rope and did the same to her hands for good measure. He took a step back, admiring his work, taking in her slumped, nearly unconscious form.

"I think that'll work."

Olivia's eyes were still closed, her head hung to the side resting against her shoulder. He approached her and grabbed her chin.

"Open your eyes, Olivia," he demanded. He waited for only a few seconds before he squeezed her face tighter and jerked her forward. "I said open."

Olivia's eyes slowly opened so that a narrow bit of warm brown was visible. She blinked, struggling not to let them close.

"There we go," Lewis said sounding pleased. He leaned down so he was eye level with her. "I'll be back soon. You be good."

With that, he released his hold on her face and stomped determinedly out of the cabin, the slam of the door echoing in his wake.

He was gone. Some part of her registered that. And for a second, visions of trying to escape took life in her head. But they were like buoys in a vast ocean, one small glimmer amidst a sea hopelessness and in the next breath, those visions were gone and all that was left was the dark that was closing in on her mind, a black abyss stretching out before her. She didn't turn away from it, though, she invited it, welcomed it, embraced it as her friend. And when her friend whispered for her to follow, she did, eagerly, until she was enveloped by the dark and consciousness was no more.

* * *

><p>The 4th floor visitor's lounge at St. Mary's hospital had become their unofficial squad room. Unofficial to them, but official to the rest of the floor it seemed, who avoided the room at all costs. It wasn't that there wasn't enough space, there was more than enough. They huddled around one table with a computer between them while a sofa and a few chairs sat unoccupied. But apparently there was something about walking into a room with three, sometimes four, cops with guns that made people want to turn and walk away. Or maybe it was the intensity of their faces. Weary, drawn, yet set in determination. There were no smiles, no laughter, no friendly greetings…they hadn't the time for those. They discussed, they strategized, throwing the occasional glance up to the tv screen fixed to the wall in front of them where the news played silently. Zara's rescue had thus far evaded the attention of the media, but they all knew that wouldn't last long. People talked. It was only a matter of time.<p>

"I think this is the last one," Amanda told them, dragging the pointer over the last parcel on the map and selecting it. An information box popped up on the screen and she read out the name of the owner. Brian's eyes trailed down a list of names they'd compiled which consisted of people: family members, friends, co-workers, with any connection to Archer, Simon Casey and Caleb Shaw.

"No," he replied dejectedly, crumpling the paper up, tossing it towards the trash and watching it bounce off the edge and onto the floor.

"Well, we knew it was a long shot," Fin reminded him.

"Yeah."

A hush fell over the room and in the silence the sound of wood shifting caught their attention. Amanda looked up into the doorway, the others following her lead, finding Maria standing there, watching them.

"Hey, how's Zara doing," Amanda asked her.

"She's sleeping," Maria told them. "Any luck with the search?"

"Not yet," Fin answered. "We're gonna find her."

"I know." Maria wrapped her arms around herself, running her hands up and down the length of her arms. She looked preoccupied, like she wanted to say something else but had decided against it. "I'm going to go get something to drink. Anyone need anything?"

Amanda glanced from Fin to Brian, both with coffee cups in front of them, and then to Maria. "No, I think we're good. Thanks, though."

"Ok." She turned and walked away, disappearing down the hallway.

"We need to focus on the partner," Brian told them, picking up where the conversation had left off. "If we know who the partner is, they'll lead us to Lewis."

"Yeah, but who," Fin asked.

"Casey, Shaw," Brian suggested.

"And if it's not one of them?"

"I don't know."

Amanda looked down at her phone and held up a finger. She put the phone to her ear. "Hey Captain."

Brian and Fin listened to the one-sided discussion between Amanda and the Captain. Whatever he'd called about, it appeared to be good news because Amanda's voice took on an optimistic tone and he heard her promising to look into something right away.

Brian sat back in his chair and stared out into the hallway, watching two nurses in scrubs pass by. A second later he heard the sound of metal clattering and wheels against the tile floor. He watched as a young man went by pushing a cart with trays on it, the sound reaching an annoyingly loud level as he passed the doorway. He sensed Amanda had gotten up from the table and stepped away in an effort to escape the noise. He glanced at her, observing as she held a hand to her ear squinting in concentration. The conversation appeared to be a very important one, he felt a slight lift at that thought. He turned back to stare at the doorway again and did a double take when he saw a familiar man in a grey suit walking briskly down the hall in the direction of the elevators. He was out of his chair in an instant, jogging out of the lounge, into the hallway, vaguely aware that Fin and Amanda were both following him, their voices carrying to him.

"Simon," Brian called to the man as he reached the double doors.

Simon stopped abruptly and turned to see who'd called his name. When he saw Brian, a smile came over his face and he began walking back to meet him.

"Detective Cassidy, I believe it was?"

"That's right," Brian confirmed. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What are you doing here?"

"I spend a lot of time here detective. Hospital board," he said, making a face that spoke to his distaste at this responsibility. "But on this particular occasion I was here to see my stepdaughter. She works here."

He smiled at him, then glanced from Amanda to Fin.

"Let me guess, detectives?"

Amanda reached out her hand to Simon. "Detective Rollins, this is my partner Detective Tutuola."

"Nice to meet you both." He returned his focus to Brian. "I hope the records I gave you were helpful. Have you had any luck with the search?" He scanned their faces. "Well something must've happened right? You're here. Did you find them?"

"We're not at liberty to discuss that right now."

Brian thought he saw a flash of knowing in Simon's eyes but it was gone as quickly as it'd appeared. Simon opened his mouth to speak when a scream tore through the hallway. A child's scream. A familiar scream. Zara's scream.

* * *

><p>The end. Of the chapter, I mean.<p> 


	17. Chapter 17

It's hard to believe this is Chapter 17. I never thought this story would go on this long, truthfully. And as frustrating a process as writing can sometimes be, it also makes me immensely happy, so I'm glad it has. You all, especially, bring me so much joy by continuing to read this crazy little, or should I say forever long, story I'm writing and telling me that I have some modicum of talent. And hey, ten reviews away from three hundred. Yet another cool milestone I never imagined seeing. So thank you, in case I haven't said that lately. Last chapter was a rough one, I know. I'm happy to say you should find this one to be much lighter. There are mentions of rape in this chapter, but it's a replay of a scene from last chapter, just done in a different way. Also some violence in flashback form which is not Lewis/Olivia related. This chapter is a lot of the squad. Also, I touch on some perimeter aspects of the story in this chapter. It felt necessary, however, this will not continue. I won't go any further into those things than necessary, so realize as you're reading, this will likely be a one time occurrence. I hope you enjoy the chapter and thanks for reading.

* * *

><p>They turned on their heels and stared in the direction of Zara's room. A nurse raced across the hallway and, without another moment's hesitation, they started toward her room, Brian briefly glancing back to see Simon walking away. As they passed through the door, their eyes fell on Zara, sitting in her bed, eyes closed, hands over her ears, lips moving silently. Nick stood on one side of the bed, a nurse on the other, both appearing to be at a loss for what to do. Amanda, Brian and Fin relaxed their stances and cast concerned gazes upon Zara, who was unmistakably distressed and trembling.<p>

"Nick, what happened," Amanda asked him.

Nick turned to them and held his hands out helplessly. "I don't know. She'd woken up from a nightmare. I was just sitting there, singing to her and…she just started screaming."

"Mr. Amaro, do you want me to get someone from Psych up here?"

"No. Please just give us a minute."

The nurse offered a curt nod and marched past Amanda, Fin and Brian, out the door.

"Nick…"

Fin started to speak, but Maria's voice interrupted him. "What's wrong?"

They all turned to see her enter the room, looking alarmed. Her eyes fell on her daughter and she breathed out her name. "Zara." Maria rushed to the other side of the bed and leaned in, putting her hand against Zara's cheek in a comforting gesture that went unacknowledged.

Maria looked up from Zara to Nick. "What happened?"

"I don't know. I was holding her, singing that song I used to sing to her when she was little, and she just started screaming," Nick explained, clearly shaken.

"Hey sweetheart," Maria whispered to Zara, stroking her hair. "You're okay." Zara whimpered quietly and pushed her hands more firmly against her ears.

"Zara." Nick's voice was quiet and gentle. He resumed his position next to her on the bed cautiously. "You don't have to be afraid anymore. I'm here and your mom's here. We won't let anyone hurt you."

She gave no indication that she heard him. Her eyes remained closed, her lips still moving. He couldn't tell what she was saying. He glanced up to the squad, who looked around uncertainly, seemingly caught between staying and going. Nick leaned down closer to Zara, attempting to make out what she was saying.

Her words came out in a breathy whisper, at first indiscernible, but slowly the jumble became clearer. Two words. And each repetition of those two words was like a knife plunging into his heart.

"Please stop. Please stop. Please stop_."_

He felt like he'd been hit. Because the one thing he'd been so sure of was suddenly thrown back into question. She'd said Lewis hadn't hurt her. She'd been firm and consistent against their questions. Her injuries seemed to back that claim. And yet, here she was reliving some memory that played behind her eyes, begging someone to stop. Stop what? His stomach threatened to revolt as anxiety and fear festered there, spreading like a virus infecting every part of his body, until the sickness consumed him. He swallowed hard, trying to clear the lump in his throat, but it wouldn't go away. He wanted to scream, but he thought it was more likely that he would break down and cry as soon as he opened his mouth. He shook his head in frustration as he felt that familiar pricking sensation around his eyes.

"Zara," he whispered, pulling her hands away from her ears, trying to keep the emotion that was creeping into his voice at bay. "Stop what?"

He was terrified of the answer, he wasn't sure he wanted it, but whether he wanted it or not didn't matter. He needed it. It was that simple. Whatever had thrown Zara into the state she was currently in, it was a memory that both distressed and frightened her. He'd seen this before, children dealing with terrifying memories, struggling to find a way to cope. Zara's mind was trying to cope with something that haunted her and he wouldn't let her do it alone. He had to know what battle she was fighting in her head.

"Stop hurting her," she whispered, the sorrow evident in her voice.

"Her," Nick managed to choke out. "Olivia?"

"Yes." The word came out of her throat as a strangled sob. Her mouth opened again, but she couldn't manage words, only a high-pitched whine. She swallowed hard and let out a shaky breath. Seconds later, she tried to speak again, seemingly needing to expel this demon from her memory. And this time she found a voice, quavering and slow, to purge the poison from her. "She said Lewis was going to do something bad and she didn't want me to see. She told me to go behind the ladder and close my eyes and sing."

"And you sang our song?"

She nodded silently. "But I could still hear her crying," tears fell from her eyes as emotion overwhelmed her, "He was hurting her so much. I just wanted him to stop."

Zara lifted her head and stared sadly into Nick's face, tears rolling down her cheeks, her eyes seeming to plead with him, asking him to go back in time and erase that moment. If only he could. But he was frozen, unable to offer her any comfort. Three sentences. Those three simple sentences told him almost nothing, and yet, they told him everything. He was paralyzed by them. His muscles, his lungs, his heart…they'd all stopped working. It was everything he'd feared, but never allowed himself to say or even think. It was a wordless, distant thought in the corner of his mind that he'd tried to ignore. But there was no ignoring the confirmation that came in the form of his daughter's innocent voice, nor the pain in her eyes as she recounted the memory. Zara may not have known what'd happened to Olivia, but he felt certain he knew exactly what she'd tried to shield his daughter from. His fist clenched unconsciously around the hospital blanket, a silent sort of scream that did nothing to calm the surge of emotions that tore at his insides.

Maria's horrified eyes flickered up to Nick's and she reached for Zara, pulling her daughter to her, wrapping her arms around Zara's small body in an attempt to soothe her. Nick watched them, but his gaze was undiscerning, his body still unmoving, left to stare aimlessly with only the horrific image Zara had offered up to him. He registered movement out of the corner of his eye and turned in time to see a pale, distraught-looking Brian leave the room. Brian had been many things since the ordeal had begun. Angry, frustrated, worried most of all. But the man that'd walked out the door was something entirely different. He was broken. Nick continued to stare into the doorway where Brian disappeared until the door closed. He turned his gaze to Amanda and Fin, who stood still in the middle of the room, looking stricken and unsure what to do, where to go. Fin was stoic, his jaw clenched, eyes on the floor. While Amanda stared in Zara's direction, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She wiped at them, then turned to Nick, cleared her throat and pointed at the door. "We'll go…" Her voice seemed to fail and instead she resorted to glancing toward the door.

"Yeah," Nick agreed, surprised at the unrecognizable sound that came out of his mouth. He watched as they left the room, sparing one last glance back at where he, Maria and Zara were crowded on the hospital bed. Nick squeezed Zara's hand, then got off the bed and walked in a daze to the bathroom. He turned on the sink and put his hands underneath the stream, splashing the cool water onto his face. He braced his hands on the counter and stared down at the white porcelain. Maria was murmuring words of comfort to Zara while she continued to cry. There was a part of him that felt guilty that it wasn't him. But at that moment, he felt ill-equipped to offer anyone anything. Not when he felt so completely lost himself. He lifted his head and stared into the mirror. But his reflection was of no consequence to him, he wasn't so vain. The man in the mirror was unrecognizable anyway. Instead his mind had gone astray, lost in a memory of Olivia as he'd found her in the beach house, sitting in a chair, a room away from an unconscious Lewis, marks on her body, pain in her eyes. She'd been distraught and disoriented, but he'd never heard her cry that day. Or the ones that followed. So it was odd that something he'd never heard before should haunt him so relentlessly. Somehow he could hear it, he could hear her. Crying. And suddenly he understood the desperation in Zara's voice. Because it was all he could hear now and he just wanted it to stop. He dropped his head into his hands, holding it with rigid fingers. He just wanted it to stop.

* * *

><p>"<em>This is actually fun."<em>

_Olivia narrowed her eyes skeptically, scrutinizing him. "Hmmm."_

_"What," Brian asked, popping a grape into his mouth._

_"I thought you were my boyfriend. You look exactly like him," she said impishly._

_"Very funny."_

_"Actually, I think you might be even more handsome than he is." She smiled conspiratorially. "Just a little. But don't tell him I said that."_

_Brian grinned and leaned in, pressing his lips against hers. "Handsome?" Olivia wrapped her arms around his neck and captured his lips, lightly brushing her lips over his. When they pulled apart she put her forehead against his, whispering, "Very."_

"_Olivia!" The squeal came from behind her. She turned to see Zara bounding toward her, Nick trailing behind. Olivia got up and held her arms out to Zara, who bounced into them. She hugged the little girl tightly, picking her up off the ground and spinning her around in a circle._

"_Guess what," Zara exclaimed as Olivia put her back on the ground._

"_What," Olivia asked, matching her enthusiasm._

_Zara peeked over her shoulder at Nick and smiled. "My dad and I raced and I beat him!"_

"_You cheated," Nick declared with fake indignation._

_Zara grinned and folded her arms across her chest. "No I didn't."_

"_Well I'm siding with Zara on principle." Brian held out his hand to her and she slapped it. "Good job!"_

_Nick chuckled. "That's okay. Liv's got my back. Don't you partner?"_

_Olivia nodded her head. "I've always got my partner's back." She crouched down in front of Zara and cradled her face between her hands. "Except when it comes to an adorable face like this. Sorry Nick," she said with a remorseful smile and a slight raise of her shoulders._

_Nick threw his hands up and made a show of mock outrage. "I see how it is."_

"_It pays to be cute," Fin joked, as he joined their group, Amanda and Cragen following closely behind._

"_How would you know," Nick quipped, putting a hand on Fin's shoulder good-naturedly._

_The group erupted into laughter and they resumed talking animatedly. Olivia took a step away from them, turning her face up to the sky, basking in the warmth of the sun, the feel of the breeze rushing past her, the sounds of laughter and excitement swirling in the air. She closed her eyes and her lips formed a smile. Everything was perfect._

_She was startled by the feel of something wet on her leg and looked down to find a small black dog sniffing at her ankles. She bent down and put her hand out for him to smell, then began running her fingers over his fur._

"_Hey buddy," she cooed to the dog. A small gold tag hung from a collar around his neck. She flipped it over and read the name._

"_Corey, huh? Where's your owner?"_

_Corey wagged his tail and barked at her, then he darted into the trees a few feet away. Olivia took a step forward, staring into the wooded area, and called for the dog._

"_Corey!"_

_She called again, eyes searching through the mass of trees before her. A flash of black appeared in her periphery and she took a step further, tilting her head to the side as she realized the black was not the dog, but a person. A man. His back was to her, but she knew him. She would know him anywhere. Lewis. Her heart started to race, her legs trembled beneath her. She glanced back to where Brian and her squad had been, ready to call out to them, but they were gone and only trees stood where they'd once been. As she scanned the landscape looking for them, she realized she was surrounded by trees. They were taller than any she'd ever seen and uncharacteristically colorless. But maybe that was the darkness that seemed to be creeping over the sky, drowning everything around her in black. She turned back to where Lewis had been, but he too was gone, and in front of her was a familiar log cabin. The cabin stirred something within her and she was sure she'd been here before. A scream rang out from inside. She ran to the cabin door and flung it open, finding herself in a small room with little to it - a fireplace, a couch, a small kitchen. But as she searched the dimly lit area, she couldn't find the source of the scream. Voices echoed to her from down the hallway. She hesitated momentarily, then continued forward into the hall, stopping just outside a doorway. She peered around the door frame, into a bathroom, where she found Lewis crouched in front of a shower._

"_Just end it." It was not Lewis' voice, but someone else's. A woman's._

"_End what?" Lewis' cruel tone made her blood run cold. "You're gonna have to be more specific. Cutting you? Burning you? Raping you?"_

"_I can't take anymore." Her voice. She felt like she should recognize it, so why did it seem so unrecognizable? The woman spoke again, pleading with Lewis. "Please."_

"_Please," he mocked. She didn't need to see his face to know that he was enjoying this. She could hear it in his voice._

"_Come on. Time to get up." Lewis leaned down to pull the woman up and Olivia retreated from the doorway, into the corner, waiting for them to come out. They emerged from the bathroom seconds later, into the main room, Lewis dragging the woman forward and throwing her to the ground. Olivia tried to run at him, to help her, but she couldn't move. She watched helplessly as he picked the woman up and pushed her up against the couch, pulling the flimsy shirt that covered her up, exposing her marred flesh to him._

"_Don't," Olivia screamed. But he didn't appear to have heard her. Neither of them had. The woman's face was buried in the couch, her body wet and shaking._

"_How do you want it?" The sadistic words seemed to reverberate in her head and she was more desperate than ever to stop him, because somehow she knew what was coming. But something was holding her down and she couldn't do anything, she couldn't help her. Why couldn't she help her?_

"_I guess that means it's my choice."_

_Lewis positioned himself behind the woman, then rotated his head to the side, his eyes finding hers. He smiled cruelly at Olivia, put one hand on the woman's hip, pulling her closer, then thrust himself inside her. Her scream was raw, almost inhuman in it's pain, and it tore at Olivia's heart. He began to move in violent, deliberate motions, brutally sodomizing the woman who clung to the couch, while she cried out in agony at each vicious thrust. Olivia thought she would be sick. Tears sprang to her eyes and a tremor passed through her body, leaving her swaying unsteadily on her feet. She tried to look away, but she couldn't turn her head. Even the smallest of movements were forbidden it seemed, because she couldn't close her eyes to the devastation in front of her. It went on forever, each second of it more terrible than the one before, though her screams finally became quieter, and somehow more familiar._

"_I'm sorry," she called to the woman, emotion infusing her voice. "I'm so sorry. You're going to be okay."_

_The woman slowly began to turn her head at the sound of Olivia's voice. Olivia craned her neck to get a glimpse of the woman's face and their eyes met. She gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, trapping the scream that was threatening to break free. It was her eyes that stared back, her face twisted in agony, her body being destroyed. She sank down to the floor, grief clawing at her chest as she helplessly watched Lewis continue his assault._

"_No," she cried, her head shaking in disbelief, tears spilling out of her eyes, down her cheeks. "It's not me. It's not me."_

_She stared into her own pained, sorrowful eyes and watched her mouth move silently. The words were unmistakable, she could hear them in her head..._

"Hey."

She heard the voice calling to her from a distance and there were hands on her arms trying to rouse her from unconsciousness. She struggled to open her eyes at the insistence of the voice and the hands that beckoned to her.

"Come on. There you go." Her eyes began to flutter open. Her vision was blurry and dark, but as she came to awareness, she realized she was staring up into a pair of familiar eyes. Blue eyes. Simon's eyes.

* * *

><p>He walked down the dim hallway with his head down, shoes clicking against the floor in a steady rhythm. People hurried past him, around him, but he didn't look up, didn't care to look into their faces. He didn't need to, because there was only one person he wanted to see and she wash't there. She was with a monster, and she was suffering. Of course he'd known this. He'd been there after Lewis took her the first time. He didn't need her words to know how bad it'd been. But now he had Zara's words. And every thought, every fear…it was all tinged with those haunting whispers and he couldn't seem to get them out of his head no matter how hard he tried.<p>

Suddenly he was stopped in his tracks by a woman exiting a door, into his path. Their bodies collided momentarily and he held up his hands in an apologetic gesture.

"Sorry," the woman said genuinely, offering him a small smile. He might've made a polite attempt at smiling back, but his eyes were drawn to her name, printed on a badge that clung to her shirt. Olivia. Brian almost broke out into maniacal laughter, it was such a cruel joke. She stared at him expectantly, bewildered by his fascination with her badge. Finally, he shook himself free of his trance-like state and diverted his gaze from her.

"Sorry," he rasped, shifting around her, resuming his steady pace.

He turned to his left and maneuvered around a hospital bed positioned in the hallway. He noted a familiar yellow glow in a glass window ahead and when he reached it, he turned right into the visitor's lounge.

"There you are." Amanda exhaled with relief as Brian stepped into the room. "Where've you been? We looked all over for you."

"I needed some air." Brian shuffled by her, staring out the window. "Is Zara okay?"

"I'm not sure. Nick's still with her," she said, shaking her head. "We were worried about you."

"I'm fine."

She pursed her lips and nodded her head, her eyes following him skeptically as he continued across the room. He sank down into a chair beside the window and peered out it.

"Where's Fin?"

"He went to get Nick," she answered. "We have some news."

As if on cue, Fin and Nick walked through the doorway and took a seat at the table where Amanda's computer was set up. Brian turned his head back to the center of the room, glancing between the three of them.

"If this is about Shaw, I already know. Alicia called me. I was on my way to interview him, but I thought I'd better stop by and give you guys a heads up."

"No, it's not. He turned up?"

"Yeah, the bartender at Kipling's called Alicia."

"Well, it doesn't matter because Shaw's not Lewis' partner," Amanda stated confidently.

Brian turned back to her, looking confused. "How do you know?"

"You remember that call I got from the Captain? Right before everything happened with Zara?"

"Yeah, why? What'd he say?"

"He was calling to let us know that they had Lewis' partner's voice. Or they assumed it was. All they knew for sure is that it was someone Archer called from prison."

"What?"

"The Captain had them check for any calls Archer made after Lewis disappeared. There was one. The day Nick and I interviewed him."

"Who was it to," Nick asked eagerly.

"The prison phone calls are contracted to an outside phone service, so we don't know the name or number of who it was delivered to right now. Barba subpoenaed the records, but it was gonna take some time."

Brian stared at them expectantly, sensing that there was more.

"The prison records the calls, as you know," Fin explained. "Barba did his thing and the Warden was more than happy to hand over what they had. Cragen sent Amanda the recording a few minutes ago."

"We need to listen to it," Nick insisted.

"No we don't," Amanda disagreed, pointing to herself and Fin. "We already did. Sorry, but you two were gone and this couldn't wait. And I think you'll both recognize the voice."

She pressed a button on her keyboard and they heard a man's voice emanating from the computer speaker. A few seconds later she hit another button and the recording stopped.

"Simon," Brian said through gritted teeth. "I knew there was something off with him. He was right there and I just let him walk away."

"We didn't have anything to hold him on," Fin reminded him.

"We still don't," Amanda interjected. "Archer didn't mention Lewis, Olivia or Zara. He knew their conversation was being recorded."

"He's smart," Nick admitted grudgingly.

Without another word, Brian got out of his chair and started toward the door.

"Where are you going," Nick asked him.

Brian spun back to face him. "I'm going to find Simon and he's going to tell me where Liv is."

"And what if he doesn't talk?"

"He will. One way or another."

"You don't know that."

"What's your problem?"

"Look, I'm just saying right now we have the advantage. If we tip our hand and drag him in, then what? We have nothing on him but an innocuous conversation with Archer. We can't hold him on that and even if we could, he has money. He'll hire a big shot lawyer that'll have him out before we can process the paperwork. And after all that, the only thing we'll accomplish is letting him know we're onto him."

"He's right," Fin chimed in. "If Simon warns Lewis, what happens to Liv?"

"So what then? What's the point if we're not going to do anything about it?"

"We know Simon has been to see Lewis. So we watch him, see if he goes back. He could lead us to her," Nick suggested.

"That's the plan? We wait? How is that any better? And what if he never goes back?"

"Zara said he was there last night," Nick reminded him. "We talked to him that morning. We must've rattled him."

"What's your point?"

"He was here this morning and he just happened to be on the same floor and the same wing as Zara," Nick explained. "I think the stepdaughter thing is him covering his ass. He knew Zara escaped and he was here to see if she'd been found. Now he knows. My guess? He'll go running back to Lewis."

The four of them glanced back and forth between each other, everyone considering the possibilities. Brian exhaled deeply and nodded in agreement. "Okay. I'll go watch him."

"I can go with you," Amanda volunteered.

"No, I'll go with him." Fin got out of his chair and put on his coat. "You stay here. Do that computer thing you do. We'll call you if he's on the move."

"Okay."

Brian turned and walked out of the room, Fin following closely behind.

"Now what," Amanda asked, glancing over at Nick.

"Now we take a long look at Simon Casey."

* * *

><p>"Where is he?"<p>

She stared back at him through slits, her face impassive, as if she hadn't heard him. When her eyes began to flutter closed again, he reached out and grabbed her chin, squeezing it.

"Hey," he yelled, leaning in closer to her. "Where is Lewis?"

Her eyes opened wider and she fought to focus on him, to decipher his words. "I don't know," she whispered.

He released his grip on her chin and stood upright. His eyes swept the interior of the cabin until they came to rest on the floor, stained with blood and vomit. Olivia watched him, fighting to keep her eyes open and her mind focused.

"Simon, help me," she croaked, her voice hoarse from screaming. "Please."

Simon turned to look at her, his face hard, eyes cold. He considered her for a moment, his gaze moving over her body, taking in the bruises, the cuts, the burns, the blood that seemed to be coming from between her legs. She'd looked bad when he'd seen her the previous night. It was shocking how much worse she appeared now. He supposed, given Lewis' disposition, she was lucky to be alive considering her escape attempt. He wondered if she felt lucky. Or was she in so much pain that the beating of her own heart had become a burden she couldn't bear any longer.

"I can't."

Olivia's head dropped in defeat. He crouched in front of her and she tensed at his proximity. "This can't go on. They have her and they'll figure out where you are eventually."

"Zara," Olivia mumbled.

"I've got to do something" He stood and began pacing, his mind racing through the scenarios of what seemed to be inevitable discovery. "If they find you here, the rest doesn't matter. I'll go to prison anyway."

Simon walked back and forth in front of the fireplace, muttering to himself, trying to find a solution to the problem that plagued him. He turned toward the mantle and rested his hands against it, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He started to turn away, then did a double take, catching sight of a hint of silver on the end table. A knife. Simon stared at it distantly as he sank down into the depths of the past and a wave of memory crashed over him.

"_I told you, no more lies. But it's always a lie with you, isn't it Simon? You can't help yourself."_

"_Evelyn, what are you talking about?"_

"_The money from Leena's trust. You said you were going to have Jim invest it for her, but you didn't, did you? And before you deny it, I saw Jim today, he didn't know anything about that. What did you do with it?"_

_Simon ran his hands over his face, realizing he'd been caught. "Okay, I did lie, but it's not what you think. The company is in bad shape. We made a few bad investments and things aren't going well right now. I needed the money to pay the contractors. I'll pay it all back, I promise."_

"_So instead of talking to me, you manipulated me and stole your stepdaughter's money," she asked, raising her voice. "What is wrong with you?"_

"_You made it clear you weren't going to put more money into the business," he said angrily._

"_So it's my fault? I've put in more than any sane person would. Against my better judgement."_

"_You're my wife. You're supposed to support me."_

"_I have supported you! But at some point you have to know when to stop, Simon. When you have to steal to make it work, it's time to cut your losses and move on."_

"_No! No," he repeated, shaking his head. "I've worked too hard. You have to help me. Give me the money to pay the rest of the contractors. I just need you to do that. The houses will get finished, I'll sell them and it'll all work out. You'll see."_

_She shook her head._ "_It always comes back to that, doesn't it?"_

"_What's that supposed to mean?"_

"_You know what I mean. The gambling, the new cars, your business. When you stood in that church in front of our friends and family and promised to love me for the rest of our lives, were you marrying me or were you marrying my money?" A tear fell from her eye and rolled down her cheek. "You don't have to answer that, because I think I know. I think I've known for awhile now."_

"_Now you're just being dramatic. You act like I'm stealing from you," he said, exasperated. "Newsflash honey, I can't. I haven't forced you into anything."_

"_You're right, you haven't. I was weak. I thought if I gave you what you wanted it would fix whatever went wrong in our relationship. But now I realize it was wrong from the beginning."_

_She turned her back on him and started to walk away. He took a step forward and grabbed her arm, squeezing it painfully. "Evelyn, don't."_

"_Let go." She wrenched her arm free of his grasp and went to her closet, pulling out a suitcase. "Leena and Sam are coming with me. I haven't decided whether I'm turning you in yet."_

_He hurried forward and ripped the suitcase out of her hands. "You're not leaving me." He threw the suitcase behind him and when she tried to move past him, he pushed her back with all his force, sending her careening back onto the ground._

_She glared up at him, anger flashing in her eyes. "If you touch me again, I'm calling the police," she seethed, getting to her feet. They stood only a foot apart, seemingly at an impasse, neither making a move. Finally, she shoved past him, grabbed the suitcase, and began packing her things._

_Simon shook with anger as he watched her throw clothes, shoes, jewelry, anything she could fit into the suitcase. She never once looked at him. Not even when he sent the contents of their dresser crashing to the floor. It was clear she was done, they were done. He stomped out of the bedroom, through the family room, into the kitchen and reached for a bottle of whiskey and a glass, intent on losing himself in the burn of liquid as it slid down his throat. His hands shook as he poured the drink and brought the glass to his lips, downing it in one swallow. He poured another glass and held it in his hands, while he considered everything he was about to lose. She would take his son, his company would likely collapse under the debt, he might even go to prison. His reputation would be destroyed. The power, the respect…he'd lose it all. He squeezed the glass in his hand and brought it to his lips again, swallowing the amber liquid, then sending the glass hurtling to the floor. He stared down at the shattered pieces of it for a moment, contemplating them silently with an unfocused gaze, still lost in the misery of his future. When he finally managed to tear his eyes from the broken glass, he reached for the top drawer and pulled it open, looking for the small broom. When he realized he'd opened the wrong drawer, he closed it quickly and pulled the next one open, then closed it and opened the top drawer again. He reached inside and pulled out a long, wood-handled kitchen knife and touched the tip of it to one of his fingers, transfixed by it. He marveled at the way the light glinted off the smooth, silver blade, the power he felt with it in his hands. The sound of Evelyn slamming cabinets in their bathroom echoed to him. He tightened his fingers around the knife and trudged back into the bedroom, toward the bathroom, with it held behind his back. He stopped in the doorway of the bathroom, watching his wife throw toiletries and make up into a small bag._

_She glanced up at him, acknowledging his presence, while she continued to pack her things. "I don't want to fight anymore Simon."_

"_I'm sorry. Please, I made a mistake. I can't lose you. I'll do whatever it takes to make this work. I'll go to counseling. Whatever you want. Just tell me what to do."_

_Evelyn's movements stilled and she braced her hands against the counter, turning her head to look at him._

"_Do you realize what you just said? You said 'I can't lose you'. Not 'I love you', but 'I can't lose you'."_

"_I do love you," he insisted._

"_No you don't," she whispered, shaking her head sadly. "I wish you did, but you don't. Goodbye Simon."_

_She grabbed the bag off the counter and moved toward the doorway. He took a step forward, his hand moving instinctively from behind his back and he pushed the knife into her body as she tried to move past him. A rush of air escaped her lips and her eyes traveled down to her stomach. He wondered if she ever really saw it coming. Had he? She stumbled backward, grasping at the knife lodged in her stomach, eyes wide, mouth open, trying desperately to speak. He could see the disbelief in her eyes, the struggle to make sense of what'd he'd done. In some way, he understood her struggle because he wasn't sure he knew himself. She fell to the ground with a loud thud, blood soaking her shirt around the wound, her breaths starting to become uneven, ragged, while unintelligible noises emanated from her throat._

"_Oh God," he whispered._

_He went to her side and fell to his knees beside her body, putting a hand to her cheek. He wondered if it was his imagination that she felt so cold. The color seemed to be draining rapidly from her face before his eyes. She coughed and blood began to seep from her mouth. He put a hand on her chest - the rise and fall of it almost indiscernible. She was dying._

_He stared down into her horrified eyes, speaking in an even voice. _"_I didn't want to do this."_

He shook his head to clear his mind of the memory, his eyes still trained on the knife, gazing at it vaguely. He knew what he had to do. His back was against the wall again and there was only one way to fix it. She had to die. And if Lewis wouldn't do it, he'd have to do it himself. He walked across the room and picked up the knife, squeezing it in his hands, reveling in the familiar feel of power in his fingers. He told himself he _could_ do to her what he'd done to Evelyn. He had to. But there was one big problem with that idea, because he couldn't get rid of her body by himself. At least not without a lot of time and effort. And Lewis would be back soon. Simon considered what Archer would've done if he'd killed one of his girls before he was done with them. There was a good chance Lewis would try to kill him for it. Even if he didn't and Simon managed to get rid of her body, there was evidence she'd been there. And from the looks of the cabin, a lot of it. Blood, vomit, hair, fingerprints…there would be remnants of her everywhere. Lewis, too. What were the chances he could get rid of all of it? Not good, he reasoned. He went to the couch and dropped down onto it, his hands on his knees, deep in thought. He lifted his head, eyes gazing into small fire still burning in the fireplace. It danced in his eyes and when he looked away from it, he could still see it dancing in the room around him. That gave him an idea.

He pushed himself to his feet and walked quickly into the kitchen, making a circle around the room, pulling cabinets and drawers open and slamming them loudly. He turned to search the table, then he disappeared into the bathroom. Olivia's head rested against her shoulder, her eyes narrowly open, cringing at each breath she took. In some ways, the pain was a blessing, because Simon was dangerous and she needed to stay conscious, to focus. Simon walked out of the bathroom empty handed and stopped outside the kitchen, scanning the space in front of him. He went to the dresser by the door and opened the drawers, searching the contents of each one. When he reached the final drawer, he noted a hint of yellow beneath newspaper and candles. He threw the newspaper behind him, pushed the candles aside and snatched the yellow bottle from the drawer, shaking it to ensure it wasn't empty. Simon opened the cap and went to couch, squirting the clear liquid onto it. When he'd sufficiently doused the piece of furniture, he continued around the room, spraying the liquid out onto the floor, the table, splashing it onto the walls.

He bent down in front of the dresser and grabbed a long, thin candle out of the drawer. He took it to the fireplace and held it into the fire, lighting it with ease.

"Don't do this," Olivia begged him weakly.

He ignored her plea and approached the couch, holding the lit candle in his hand, the light of it flickering in his eyes ominously. Olivia squeezed her eyes shut and drew in a deep breath, summoning all her strength. "Someone will see the smoke," she reasoned, grimacing as a sharp pain seized her right side.

"You're probably right," he agreed. "Chances are, someone will. That's why I'm…well, Detective Hollis, is going to give the city notification of a controlled burn taking place on the property. Once they get that from a police officer, they won't be concerned about the smoke."

Simon moved closer to the couch and held the candle to it, watching it catch fire. "This place will burn to the ground. All the evidence will be gone. So will you." He stared at the flames as they spread over the couch, then he tossed the candle behind it, where more flames burst to life. He went to the door and turned to watch the fire burn, verifying that he'd done enough to ensure the destruction of the cabin. When he was satisfied he had, he glanced one last time at the terrified woman across the room, her hands wiggling sluggishly behind her, eyes focused on the flames.

She turned to him, sensing his eyes on her, and their gazes met for a brief moment. She expected him to say something, though she didn't know what, but he was silent. Simon turned his back on her and walked out the door, got in his car and sped away, leaving the cabin and Olivia to burn in his wake.

* * *

><p>She stared at the headline of the article in front of her. <strong>Missing. Wife of Real Estate Mogul Disappears. <strong>There were more just like it, different headlines, all retelling the same story. That Simon Casey's wife, Evelyn, had gone out for a run one night and never come back. The articles spanned months, detailing an investigation which first focused on Simon Casey as the prime suspect in his wife's disappearance, but later moved on to other angles after he was cleared of any suspected involvement. It was all there in black and white, article after article until the final one, which drew a horrifying conclusion. The police believed that Evelyn Casey had more than likely been the victim of a serial killer that'd plagued the area in recent years.

Amanda sighed and rested her forehead in her hands. "How did we miss this," she murmured aloud. Amanda heard the click of heels behind her and looked over her shoulder to find Alicia approaching behind her.

"I missed it," Alicia said somberly, standing next to Amanda, staring at her computer.

"No, it's not your fault. It's not anyone's fault. We knew what we were looking for and we just lost track of the big picture." Amanda pushed her computer away from her and stared up at Alicia. "Besides, you didn't know Lewis had a partner. None of us did. Simon wasn't a suspect."

"Yeah," Alicia murmured, sounding unconvinced. She dropped a file down on the table. "Everything they had on Evelyn Casey's disappearance."

She stared around the room, noting that it was otherwise empty. "Where'd the guys go?"

Amanda opened the file and began reading through it, talking with her head down, eyes moving rapidly over the pages. "Nick went to check on Zara. Brian and Fin are trying to track down Simon."

"That's good. Listen I know this is the last thing you want to hear right now, but the news about Zara leaked. The State Police Public Information Office is fielding a lot of calls right now from local and national media outlets. There were also a couple of news vans outside of headquarters when I left. More when I got here. This is about to blow up, and fast."

Amanda paused and looked up at Alicia, sighing deeply. "Great. That's just what we need." Her eyes dropped down to the file and she began reading again. "We're so close to finding Olivia and they're going to put her life in danger." Amanda paused, her brow furrowed, head shaking side to side in short, quick movements. "More danger. If that's even possible."

Alicia pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. She grabbed the remote to the TV and began flipping through the channels. "It doesn't look like the story is out yet. We could ask them to hold it…" Her voice trailed off, eyes focused on the screen, remote still in hand, pointed at the TV.

Amanda noted her silence and glanced up at her, then followed her gaze to the TV screen. There was footage of Alicia walking out of the State Police headquarters, while the words on the screen proclaimed in big letters that a missing girl had been found.

"Turn it up."

Alicia obliged and they both listened intently to a man summarizing Lewis' numerous crimes leading up to, and including, his escape from prison and Zara and Olivia's kidnappings.

_A source inside the hospital tells WTEL that little Zara Amaro was brought in to the ER last night after she was found by two teenage girls along the side of a road. We have not yet received specific information regarding her injuries, but the source did say they were not life threatening._

"Vultures."

Alicia and Amanda turned to see Nick standing behind them, just inside the doorway, arms folded across his chest.

_The search for NYPD Sergeant Olivia Benson continues. Both the NYPD and the New York State Police have refused to comment on this new information. But it is believed that she is still being held captive by William Lewis somewhere in the area. Back to you Tim._

Alicia pointed the remote at the TV and turned it off.

"If I find out who leaked that information, I'll arrest them," Nick said seriously. He lowered his gaze to the file that lay open in front of Amanda. "What's that?"

"It's the case file on Evelyn Casey's disappearance."

Nick dropped down into the chair next to Alicia.

"How's your daughter," she asked him.

"Physically she's going to be okay," he told her, clasping his hands together in front of him. "Mentally…she's terrified. I don't think she really believes Lewis can't get to her anymore. Maybe it's because he still has Olivia, I don't know. But the nightmares, the memories - they're constant."

"It's a lot for a young mind to process. Have you thought about having her talk to someone from the hospital?"

"The nurses offered to call for a consult, but I don't know if that's the right thing to do," he explained helplessly. "I'm afraid putting her in the room with a stranger will hurt her more than help her."

Alicia nodded in understanding.

"Hollis. Why does that sound so familiar?"

Nick's eyes turned up the ceiling, his brows furrowed in concentration. "Jason Hollis? The baseball player. He was involved in that case a year ago."

Amanda shook her head vigorously. "No. That's not it."

"Why do you ask?"

"One of the investigating detectives in Simon's wife's disappearance was Joseph Hollis. I can't place it, but I know I've heard that name recently."

"I'll check Archer's file," Alicia suggested. "Maybe he was the arresting officer."

Alicia pulled the case file from her bag and opened it. She skimmed over the pages quickly.

"Nope. Not him."

"Are you sure you're not thinking of Jason Hollis," Nick asked Amanda.

"I'm sure," she insisted. "It has something to do with this case."

Alicia took out her phone and put her finger to the screen, scrolling quickly until she found what she was looking for.

"Joseph Hollis. He's still State Police. I've got a list of troopers on the search team. He's leading it with his partner, Detective Strickland. She turned to Nick and leveled her finger at him. "You've met him, remember? Tall, dark, handsome," she grinned.

Nick cracked a smile. "Well I don't know about all that, but I do remember him. Nice guy." Nick's face suddenly became serious as his conversation with Detective Strickland came back to him. "He told Cassidy and I that his partner was good friends with Simon's father. Wouldn't leading the investigation into Simon's wife's disappearance be a conflict of interest?"

"I suppose it would."

"That still doesn't explain why his name is so familiar." Amanda grabbed her computer and set it down in front of her. She slid Evelyn Casey's file away and Nick pulled it toward himself, beginning to read through the pages.

"You know anything about the other detective listed on this report? Minder," he asked Alicia.

"Not a thing. Look, I know what you're thinking, but a high-profile disappearance like that? The investigation would've been scrutinized heavily by the brass," Alicia reminded him. "Not to mention they weren't the only detectives working the case. You know how it goes."

Nick held his hands up. "Maybe it's nothing. But I think we can both agree he shouldn't have been the lead on that case."

"Probably not."

"I knew it," Amanda whispered, her mouth slightly agape.

"What," Nick asked eagerly.

"I think I've looked at this map so many times I have it memorized." Amanda spun the computer so they could see the screen. She pointed to a box that contained the identifying information for the tax parcel she'd selected.

"The Thorne Land Trust. Look at the Trustee." She put her finger to the screen to emphasize her point. "Joseph Hollis."

Nick studied the words in front of him, then turned to Alicia and Amanda. "It's on Davitt Lake Road. That's where they found Zara."

Amanda nodded her head. Alicia leveled her gaze at the screen, scrutinizing the information in front of her. "Okay. Joseph Hollis is the trustee, so he's not the owner. Where are we going with this?"

"Joseph Hollis is just the public name attached to the trust," Nick explained. "These land trusts can be used to hide the real owner's identity, to serve as a sort of asset protection from collectors, law suits…."

"Right," Amanda affirmed.

"So the question is, who _is_ the real owner? Why don't we ask Detective Hollis?"

"No," Nick rejected flatly. "We don't know if he's a part of this. I'm not willing to take the chance that he is."

"We don't know anything. We're basing this off one man's word that Joseph Hollis is a friend of Simon Casey's father. Which is not a crime, by the way."

"Think about it, though. If you're Simon Casey and you're looking to hide your assets, Hollis is the perfect person to enlist as the trustee. No familial relation, different last names, a cop…no one would ever suspect."

"What about the trust name? Thorne Land Trust. Don't you think Thorne is a last name? Probably the real owner's."

"I think it was," Amanda answered vaguely. She put her fingers to the keyboard and began typing rapidly. Her fingers stopped moving and she spun the computer toward Alicia again. "This is an article I found earlier about Evelyn Casey's disappearance. Read the next to last paragraph."

_Evelyn Casey was previously married to Paul Thorne, an engineer from Albany, killed in an explosion at the Atlas chemical plant where he worked. Along with his wife, Mr. Thorne was survived in death by his daughter, Mileena, age 9 at the time. An investigation into the explosion revealed a litany of safety violations against the plant. This prompted Mrs. Casey, then Thorne, to file a wrongful death lawsuit against Atlas. The matter was eventually settled out of court for a reported 6.7 million dollars._

"Thorne." Alicia murmured aloud, her eyes still glued to the screen.

"Simon had his wife declared deceased years ago. He would likely have inherited everything she had…money, land. Now tell me you don't think there's a connection there."

Alicia shook her head mechanically and then lifted her eyes to Amanda's. "I can't. You're right, there's something there. We need to get a warrant to search that place."

Nick nodded his head in agreement and then caught Amanda's eye. She inclined her head slightly. "You do that. We'll meet you there."

Nick turned to leave, Amanda following behind him. "You're not planning to wait for a warrant, are you?"

"Warrants take time and we don't have time. Besides, if I get there and I hear a gunshot, it's exigent circumstances. That's all I need," he shrugged.

"That's a dangerous game you're playing."

"I don't care. I'm not leaving Olivia there a second longer. If there are consequences, that's fine, I accept that. But I'm getting her out of there. Now."

Alicia offered a small, impercept nod of her head. "That's a lot of ground to cover and only three of us."

"We'll call it in on the way, the search team is nearby to assist. It won't take them long to get to us."

"Hollis is leading that team," Amanda reminded him.

Nick cringed and shook his head. "I forgot. He can't know. We can't take the chance that he warns Simon."

"I'll request the Special Operations guys. They're better with this stuff anyway."

"Let's hope they move fast."

"Don't forget, Fin and Brian are watching Simon," Amanda added, packing her computer and the case file into her bag. "I'll call them and let them know what's happening. They can meet us out there."

"What about Simon," Alicia asked her.

Amanda chewed the inside of her cheek anxiously. "He doesn't know. But if he catches wind, he might run. He has the resources."

Nick turned to Alicia. "Send another unit to watch him. Someone you trust. When we get Liv, we'll have them arrest Simon."

She nodded in agreement. "Okay."

"I have to tell Maria and Zara what's happening. I'll meet you downstairs."

They began moving toward the door, Nick turning to his right as they left the visitor's lounge. He jogged down the hallway while Amanda and Alicia hurried to the left, toward the elevators, both with their phones to their ears, their minds a crescendoing chorus of organized chaos, hearts thudding in anticipation of what was to come. Amanda heard Fin answer on the other end and she had to concentrate through her anxious excitement to relay her message.

"Fin, we think we know where Lewis has Olivia."

* * *

><p>Everything burned. Fire had consumed most of the room and soon it would consume her. Crackles, pops, and a rumbling sort of thunder...they were the sounds of death approaching. The heat of the flames licked at her skin, while the smoke billowed from the fire, filling the room. She tried to breathe in, but every breath was tinged with the acrid substance and she choked on it, coughing and gasping, sending a sharp pain tearing through her right side. She squeezed her eyes shut and let her head fall to her chest, unable to watch the approach of the flames any longer. Instead, she filled her mind with thoughts of the people she loved. She let the images wash over her, memories of smiles and laughter, friendship and love. She held them there, clung to them, as the smoke started to overcome her and she felt herself beginning to drift away from awareness. She opened her eyes one last time, fighting to stay with her life a second longer. And as her eyes fluttered closed, she thought she saw a figure emerging from the haze of smoke and flames, reaching out to her, calling her name.<p>

* * *

><p>I expect next chapter to be a bit more exciting. Hopefully. Until then...<p> 


	18. Chapter 18

To say I'm sorry, would really be the understatement of the century. This long absence wasn't planned, and for the most part, I was always trying to get myself back to writing this, but I suffered a bit of a crisis of confidence and had a hard time doing that. I actually had a near finished update about a month after my last update. But around the time I was almost finished with it, I decided I hated it. And thus began months of writing and rewriting and rewriting. And then, for a while, giving up on it altogether because it was entirely too frustrating. I made myself go back to it recently, with the intention that I was going to force myself through it because it might never come out the way I want it to, and I promised myself I wasn't going to abandon this story...so that brings us to this. Also, I wanted to thank a couple of people who listened to me whine. They deserve acknowledgment for that because it was pretty constant. So first thank you skydala (twitter: rainbow_brite13) for your friendship and support. And a special thank you to svuxfanfic (twitter: ThsRThrStories) who dealt with my bad attitude on a daily basis, kept being my friend and was just all around wonderful with her encouragement. And speaking of her, in case you didn't know, svuxfanfic is not only a talented writer, but she excels at making videos, too. Some time ago she made an amazing promo for the story. And just recently she made another. It's pretty epic. I've linked it in my bio. So with all of that out of the way...this chapter should probably have been separated into two chapters because there's a lot going on. But some of it's very miscellaneous so I didn't love the idea of doing that. Because I decided not to make it two chapters, it's very long. Finally, I'll shut up and just say...go easy on me. It's been awhile.

* * *

><p>Awareness came to her slowly from the depths of a black void. Silent, tranquil, empty. Was this death? On some level, she suspected it was. Because death had come for her. She'd seen it, felt it on her skin. Death had burned her down to ashes that scattered into the air she'd once breathed, carried on the wind, away from the smoke and flames, into the dark. Or had it? If this was death, then death was a con artist and she'd been cheated. Because the agony that'd consumed her body for as long as she could remember had not ceased. And if her life was forfeit, wasn't an end to her suffering part of the bargain? She had to believe it was.<p>

But if she wasn't dead, how was she alive? In answer to that question, her world started to move. Not much. Only a slight tremble beneath her. And sound. There was sound with each tremor. Crunching, heavy thuds that got louder until they reached the height of their crescendo and stopped. Footsteps. Someone had come for her. She reached back into her memory and watched it play over in her mind. The fire, the heat, the smoke. She remembered the certainty that she would die there, condemned to a fate there was no escape from. And though she'd resolved herself that she wouldn't watch her end come any closer, her eyes had opened anyway. Instinctively. A last gasp for life. And in the haze and shadow of that piece of her memory, there was a hand outstretched, a faceless figure. A savior.

There was pressure at her neck. Fingers against her skin. Heavy inhales and exhales came from above her as her rescuer felt for a sign of life. Her heart rate obliged, pulse pounding frantically under the touch. Then the fingers were gone. She lay there in the stillness, her fingers curling into the wispy, damp threads of grass beneath her, relishing in the feel of it. She realized that her hands were free. A cuff still circled her left wrist, but someone had freed her right. This bolstered her. Had she been rescued? Her eyes cracked open. Her vision flooded with light. And then light gave way to the sky, bluer than she'd ever seen it, painted by treetops that swayed to the rhythm of the wind's song. She stared up into the sky, reveling in the feel of the sun, coughing out the tinge of smoke that remained in her lungs. Slowly the light disappeared and a shadow materialized over her. She looked back into a face. It was blurry at first, but her eyes quickly adjusted and she saw him. The devil disguised as a savior. Lewis.

"No," she whispered.

Olivia lifted her head off the ground, braced her hands in the grass and scrambled away. She stared up at him warily, hovering behind a wall of air and fear. As if that would help her.

"Yeah, you're welcome." He dropped down on his heels beside her. "If I hadn't come back for the car, you'd be dead."

Her gaze instinctively went to the cabin. Flames poured from the window, the roof. She probably would've been dead. And she'd wanted to live. But in that moment, she couldn't remember why.

"That would've been an unsatisfying end to our time together. Call me sentimental, but I didn't have a chance to say goodbye." He tilted his head to the side, studying her. "What happened?"

There was an edge to his voice. Anger and knowing and she was sure he at least suspected the answer. After all, there were few options and he wasn't stupid.

"Simon," she answered, between gulps of fresh air.

"Simon," he repeated, sounding only mildly surprised. "Simon tried to kill you."

There was an odd twinge to his voice as he said the words, an angry accusation as if such a thing was unthinkable to him. It was ironic, she thought, given everything he'd done to her. His endgame was no different from Simon's. But somehow it made sense. He was like a child with a toy, his favorite toy, and Simon had tried to take it from his hands and break it before he was done playing. Only he got to break his toys.

She watched his jaw set in anger, nostrils flaring out ever so slightly. Saw the muscles in his arm shifting as his fists clenched. He took a few deep breaths while his eyes remained locked on hers. And like the rest of his body, they too radiated unbridled rage. He exhaled a breath and shook his head in short, quick motions, an odd sort of smile on his face. Yet he appeared to be far from amused.

"I should've killed him when I had the chance." He wrapped his hand around her wrist. "After I get you settled somewhere else, he's dead."

"Please, just let me go."

It was a childish request, both in the desperation and naivety of it. She knew better.

"Let you go?" He dipped his head down to find her gaze, grabbing her face in his hand. "I'd let you burn before I let you go." He stood, pulling her up, drawing her into him. He moved the hand on her right arm so he was squeezing the cuts he'd made there. "You're mine. Remember?"

Lewis spun her in his arms, so her back was against his chest. She hung there limply, not even bothering to fight him. He wrapped an arm around her back, supporting her weight, and pulled her to the SUV. He led her to the rear passenger side door, opened it and pushed her inside. He secured the free cuff to the door and walked back to the trunk, appearing at the other door seconds later with a light blue sheet. He unfolded it and threw it over her haphazardly. He closed the back door and got in the driver seat, putting the key in the ignition and starting the car. It came to life with lights, dings and voices from the radio. Lewis stared at the cabin for a few moments, then he reached back for his seatbelt, pulled it over himself, and buckled it. He shifted the car into drive and pressed down on the gas. The car crawled forward into the dark of the forest.

"I know a place not far away. There's no one home," he told her, peering at her in his periphery. "It's not Archer's place, but we'll make it work."

* * *

><p>"Special Operations is en route. Rensselaer County Sheriff's Department, too. It's their jurisdiction so Sergeant Stevens wants them in on it."<p>

"No sirens?" Nick glanced into his rearview mirror at her.

Alicia nodded and added, "They've been told to make a quiet approach."

Nick inhaled deeply and nodded, tightening his grip on the wheel. "Good."

"What about Fin and Brian?" Alicia asked.

Amanda looked up from the GPS and turned to face Alicia. "On their way."

Nick stared at the road before him. Trees lined either side of it. Tall. Like an army standing at attention guarding the secrets within. They passed a road to the right. At the corner stood a sign with flowers and an arrow, advertising a spring festival. As he peered farther down the road, he saw a line of police cars along the side of the road. He realized the search team must be nearby.

"How much longer," he asked Amanda, who was sitting quietly in the passenger seat, staring out into the trees. She looked at the GPS in her hands and then to Nick. "A few more miles."

"What's the plan exactly? According to that map there's no record of a dwelling in the public property records. We're going in blind and that's a lot of area to cover," Alicia reminded them.

"There's a path in, we just have to find it."

"A path?" Amanda repeated.

"Zara said Olivia told her to follow it to the road. So if we find it, we can follow it in."

"Okay wait a minute, I'm confused. Zara told us Olivia had her get in the car while she went to get the keys. And that's when Simon showed up."

"Yeah." Nick sighed. "I get bits and pieces from her and it's hard to really put it together. What I've gotten so far is that at some point, while Olivia and Zara were being held in the basement together, Olivia tried to get Zara to run. Olivia couldn't. Zara said Lewis keeps a chain around her ankle. So she told Zara how to get away. But Zara didn't go. She was too scared. Luckily she remembered what Olivia told her."

There was no response to this revelation, just a silence that carried them through multiple twists and turns in the road. Finally, it straightened out and Nick pressed his foot down on the gas pedal, urging the car on faster.

"It's right up here," Amanda said finally. She pointed to the left side of the road. Nick glanced at the GPS in her lap, watching the last five hundred feet countdown.

_500. 400. 300. 200. 100. Arrived._

* * *

><p>There was music. People. A chorus of voices, laughter, shouts, car horns floating through the solid barrier of the SUV to her ears. It sounded like a party. It sounded like freedom. Olivia lifted her eyes up to the window, where sunlight hit the glass. She squinted against the brightness, scanning the narrow glimpse of the outdoors that the window afforded, looking for a clue as to where they were. But she could see nothing from her place on the floor. The vehicle slowed to a crawl, the noise from outside getting louder, until the buzz of voices and music reached its peak, and the car stopped.<p>

"You've gotta be kidding me," Lewis muttered to himself, bringing a hand up to his face and placing it over his mouth. He exhaled loudly through his nose, then took his hand away and planted it firmly against the console, pushing down until his knuckles turned white. He turned his head from one side to the other, then back, seemingly looking for an escape. When he didn't find one, he craned his neck, peering around the car in front of him, eyeing a man in a reflective vest positioned at the barrier, talking on the phone. Lewis shifted into park and took his foot off the brake. He turned his head slightly, speaking to her in a low voice.

"A lot of people. Kids."

Olivia's eyes widened, her nostrils flared.

"No one gets hurt as long as you keep your mouth shut."

She closed her eyes and nodded. No one was going to die for her.

"Good girl."

Lewis stared into the rearview mirror, then grabbed the medallion hanging from it. He flipped it over in his hand absently while his eyes roamed over the crowd of people lining the street.

In the car, the song playing on the radio ended and the voice of the radio personality replaced it.

_"__That was Hurricane by Thirty Seconds to Mars. Some breaking news in the search for escaped convict William Lewis."_

Lewis grabbed the knob and turned up the volume.

_"__As reported earlier, seven year old Zara Amaro was admitted to St. Mary's Hospital last night. The New York State Police public information officer, trooper Mark Latham, tells WRCR that Lewis is still believed to be holding NYPD Sergeant Olivia Benson hostage. He's driving a Black Toyota RAV4, license plate RTZ 4656. If you see William Lewis or the vehicle in question, do not approach. Call the police immediately. The suspect should be considered armed and extremely dangerous."_

Lewis made a low noise in the back of his throat. "Your friends have been busy."

There was tapping on his window. Lewis peaked over his shoulder at Olivia and quickly reached back, pulling the sheet up over her face. He turned to see an elderly woman standing outside, staring at him expectantly, a pleasant smile settled on her kind face. He smacked his hand against the knob, shutting the radio off, and rolled the window down until it was halfway open.

"Hi there. I know what you're thinking, why is this old woman knocking on my window." She pointed to the back door. "You've got something caught in the door there, hun."

Lewis rolled the window down the rest of the way and leaned his head out, glancing back to where she'd indicated. A portion of the sheet hung out the back door.

"Oh. You know, I was in such a hurry, I didn't even notice."

"Well I just wanted to make sure you knew." She glanced at the back door again. "You wouldn't want to ruin a perfectly good sheet." The woman took a step toward the door, leaning down. "Oh, it's got a little mud on it already. Do you want me to get that out of the door?"

Lewis reached back and rested his hand on the gun. His eyes flickered back to Olivia's covered form. "No, that's -"

"Joyce, leave the man alone," a silver-haired man yelled out the window of the car behind them.

Joyce made an exaggerated turn toward the older man in the car, hands on her hips, scowling at him. She tilted her head to the side and waved him off, then turned back to Lewis with a smile.

"My husband, the grump. He's mad we didn't make it back in time to get through before the parade started." She glanced back to her husband, then turned to Lewis, shaking her head reproachfully. "It's a short parade. It'll take 10 minutes. Heaven forbid he's not home to sit in his chair and watch the news."

Lewis pursed his lips and nodded his head politely. Joyce studied him carefully, the smile fading from her face.

"Are you okay? You look like you've been through the wringer."

Lewis examined himself. Black soot stains covered his white shirt, his skin. A bleeding cut on his hand. Burns on his arm.

"Yeah. Rough day at work."

The single, stunted wail of a siren elicited a flinch from both of them. Joyce turned and waved to the officer in the police cruiser passing by, while Lewis hid behind her. He discreetly watched the cruiser come to a stop at the barrier. The officer got out of his vehicle and greeted the man in the reflective vest who'd been manning it. Lewis watched the officer warily, wrapping his fingers around the gun barrel. Joyce opened her mouth to speak again, but Lewis cut her off.

"I just remembered...I left my phone at home," Lewis told Joyce, peering around her form at the officer, who was holding an animated conversation with the man in the vest. Lewis brought his gaze back to Joyce. "I should go back and get it. My wife won't be happy if she can't get ahold of me."

"Oh, okay. Well you have a nice day," Joyce murmured distractedly, staring past him into the car. She took a step back. Lewis shifted the car into drive and turned to her, flashing teeth and bright eyes.

"You too."

Joyce smiled awkwardly and waved. She walked back to her car, throwing the occasional glance over her shoulder. Lewis turned the wheel slowly, making an inconspicuous u turn in the middle of the road. He stared into his rearview mirror, watching the officer for any sign that he'd been recognized. But the officer didn't notice or care about what appeared to be an impatient retreat from the parade. Lewis put his foot down on the gas, eager to get away from the congregation of people who might recognize him.

"Change of plans. We gotta lose the car."

* * *

><p>The large, armored BearCats carrying the Special Operations Response Team rumbled up the road and pulled into the grass, only moments after Fin and Brian had arrived. Over a dozen fatigue-clad men carrying guns climbed out of the vehicles and assembled in a group. Behind them, a white van had pulled over, joining the fleet of vehicles parked along the side of the road. Men in black gear funneled out of the van, forming another group. A tall, broad shouldered man with beady, close set eyes, heavy brows and the hint of graying beard stepped forward to greet them. Alicia was the first to approach him while they lagged behind her.<p>

"Sergeant Stevens?"

He nodded and Alicia extended her hand to him.

"These are our friends from the NYPD. Detectives Amaro, Rollins," she pointed to each of them respectively, continuing, "Tutuola and Cassidy."

Sergeant Stevens extended his hand to each of them. He gestured to the two men on his left. "Rensselaer County Sheriff's Deputies Jackson and Vasquez. And those gentlemen in black are the county SWAT team," he said, motioning to them. He opened his shoulders and inclined his head toward the group of fatigue-clad men.

"That's my team. There a couple county units on standby ready to close down this portion of the road if the need arises. I don't anticipate that being the case."

Nick pointed to the ground where fresh tire tracks were visible in the mud. "We know Lewis' partner was here last night. I'm guessing these are his. We should be able to follow that path in."

"Okay. Mason brought me up to speed on the basics. Anything else you can tell me before we do this? What are we looking at?"

Nick leveled his gaze at Sergeant Stevens. "He's not gonna give her up. If he sees us coming, he'll kill her."

An uneasy silence permeated the air. Disquiet radiated off of everyone around him.

Stevens nodded. "I'm going to brief my team and then we'll go in. We'll get your Sergeant back."

They all nodded mechanically. Stevens, Jackson and Vasquez turned and joined the group of men who quieted at their presence. Nick took a few steps closer to the trees and peered into them. He couldn't help but think of Zara on this very road. Wet, cold, alone and terrified. Staring into the denseness of the forest, at what she had to navigate through in the dark, he knew it was miracle she'd made it out alive. His heart raced for a fraction of a second, the way it did sometimes when he considered how close he'd been to losing her. He felt a soft clap on his back.

"They're ready," Fin informed him, walking swiftly toward the group of men. Nick followed him.

Sergeant Stevens stood in front the teams, holding a hand up to silence them.

"I want everyone to fan out, but keep close. Stay quiet, stay hidden. Keep your radios down. And people, he has a fellow officer. Let's bring her home."

With a single point of two fingers from Stevens, they plunged through the trees, delving into the darkness of the forest. Nick pulled his gun from the holster. He walked with it held out in front of him, but lowered, his gaze sweeping from side to side. The woods were unsettling in their familiarity. In the rare moments he managed sleep, he always found himself there. But it was darker in his nightmares. And vast. A maze of trees that he ran through, searching. Always searching. But never finding.

"Do you guys smell smoke?" Amanda whispered.

"Yeah," Fin answered.

"Something's wrong." Brian pushed his way to the front and they followed, feeling a similar unease.

The smoke got thicker the farther they pushed in. It hung in the air, glistening in opaque rays in places where light streamed through the treetops onto the forest floor. They picked up the pace, sacrificing a certain amount of stealth for speed, an overwhelming sense of urgency pervading. The path turned and they followed it, guns leveled, eyes scanning through the trees. There was an unmistakable sound to fire, and Nick could hear it before he saw it. A low roar interspersed with sharp crackling. They started jogging, stealth be damned, and the flames came into view only seconds later, the distinctive orange glow just visible through the leaves. Then, they were clear of the trees and it was there in front of them, unobstructed. Terrible.

"Olivia," he heard Brian whisper from beside him.

Nick looked at Brian and found an expression of pure horror etched into his face, the flames that engulfed the cabin burning in his eyes. There was a short moment in which they all stared at it, watching the fire consume the structure, frozen, horrified. Brian was the first to move, sprinting away from them toward the fire.

Amanda and Fin ran after him, calling his name, but he kept running until he reached the doorway. He swayed backward for a moment, met by the flames and intense heat. He put his arm up as a shield from it.

"Liv!"

He screamed her name, peering through the smoke, coughing, his eyes burning. When there was no immediate sign of her, he started to run forward through the door, but a pair of arms grabbed him and pulled him back.

"Brian, no! You can't!"

Brian struggled against Fin's restraining arms, but he couldn't break free of them. He was desperate, distraught, and half-way to anger at the interference. "Let go of me, Fin!"

"Look at that place, man. No way anyone is alive in there."

Brian rounded on him, his face twisted in pain, like he'd swallowed glass and it was shredding his insides.

"You don't know that."

"We don't know anything. We don't know if she was in there," Fin reasoned.

"Was?" The slight quiver in Brian's voice was unmistakable.

"Brian -"

Brian cut in over Amanda. "He had her locked up in the basement. She could be down there. She could still be alive. I can't just stand here."

"If I thought there was a chance, I'd go in there myself," Fin jabbed a finger into the air. His voice took on a soft, empathetic tone. "But there's not."

"Brian, he's right." Amanda put a light hand on his arm that he quickly shrugged off. "You'd never make it out alive."

As if to prove their point, a loud crash emanated from the cabin. Brian turned his back on them and dropped down onto his heels, his pained, light brown eyes watching the fire pull the cabin down bit by bit. He put his head into his hands and ran his fingers over his short, cropped hair.

Nick appeared from around the corner looking grim. "There are two other windows, but I can't..." He shook his head, the words stolen by hopeless desperation.

They stared into the flames in a trance-like state, paralyzed by fear and despair. The air was warm, uncomfortably warm. But in that moment, they felt so utterly cold.

Brian stood and faced them, devastation imbued in every movement. "He knew we were coming."

It sounded impossible, but they couldn't deny what was in front of them. And what wasn't. At some point, the two teams shuffled past them in a blur, moving into the trees, dispersing in every direction. Left in the empty clearing with only the sound of the leaves rustling in the wind and the crackling of the fire, four people stood with heavy hearts and troubled minds, while the world crumbled to ashes around them.

* * *

><p>The thump of a trunk closing resonated in the air. Gravel crunched beneath boots as he made his way to the door of the silver Subaru Forester, head swinging from side to side, ensuring he went unseen. But the place was empty. Ensconced between two rows of white storage units with green doors, the traffic that passed on the highway in front of the fenced in units could see nothing of the happenings from their obscured vantage point. Not the Forester, not the abandoned black RAV4, and not the blood that stained the gravel at the foot of it's trunk.<p>

Lewis opened the driver door and climbed into the Forester, taking a quick inventory of the new dash in front of him. He put the key in the ignition and started the car. He adjusted the seat and the mirrors, his gaze lingering in the rearview mirror, rubbing at the soot that stained his face.

"I don't think we have to worry about your cop friends finding us now. It'll be hours before they find his body in that trunk. They'll be looking for the wrong car. By the time they figure it out, we'll be far away from here."

He twisted his body in his seat so he was leaning over across the divide between the front and back seats.

"Don't look so sad, sweetheart. They were never gonna save you anyway. I'd never let them get you back alive."

He shifted the car into drive, letting his foot off the brake. The Forester crawled down a row of the storage units, rocks shifting beneath the tires. Olivia grimaced as the vehicle shook beneath her, jostling her broken body. They emerged out of the shade, into the waning sunlight, moving slowly along the main drive with rows of the units on either side. A few seconds later, they passed through the gate and came to a stop where the drive met the highway. He turned back to her, eyebrow raised, a smug look on his face.

"Feels just like old times, doesn't it?" He tilted his head to the side. "Comfortable? It's gonna be a long drive. I'm thinking the mountains."

He threw one final glance to his left, then pulled the wheel right and pressed down on the gas.

The smooth pavement beneath the tires signaled a wave of devastation within her. The cop in her knew he was right. No one was going to find her now. He would take her to a new prison where she lived the same nightmare. Irony of all ironies, he'd saved her life so he could continue to take it. Because it was never going to be enough for him. He would keep hammering away until he shattered her so completely that her body finally just gave out.

_I'm not going to last much longer anyway. _She could feel it. And if the injury to her body wasn't enough to kill her, dehydration surely would. This thought was both comforting and devastating in it's reality.

Her head fell to the side and she stared vacantly into face of that harsh truth. In the basement, when her world had been dark and timeless, every moment had felt protracted and slow. A lifetime of hell contained in one second until she'd lived a million of them. And now, as he drove her toward some inevitable end, everything was moving too fast. A blur of sight and sound. Treetops and the sky. The rush of cars passing. Every second he took her further away from the people that were looking for her and closer to the new hell he chose for her. A place where she'd probably die. Another harsh truth. But with truth came acceptance and acceptance gave her freedom. She had nothing to lose. And now, free of the cabin and the woods, she had a chance.

A flash of red amidst the darkness demanded her attention. She slid her hand under the passenger seat and pulled out a baseball cap. She set it aside and put her hand in again, fingers splayed out against the floor, searching for something useful. Her hand tangled in thick cords and cold metal bars attached to the underside of the seat. Her fingers grazed against small pieces of paper and bits of dirt, food and coins, but she found nothing that could help her. She slowly, painfully, turned her body, flipping onto her side and repeated the same search beneath the backseat. The results were the same. She moved her hand up along the door, feeling for the handle, hoping by some miracle she could open it. _And do what_, she wondered. _Be seen_, a voice inside answered. _Draw attention_. _Hope someone will call the police_. She pulled on the door handle carefully, quietly, but it was locked.

The car slowed. The sound of shrieking brakes and the mechanical grumbling of a diesel engine rang in her ears. Olivia stared out the window, but she saw only the same blue sky and treetops. The Forester crawled to a stop. The idle of the diesel engine continued to rumble nearby. From behind them came the thunderous rattle of bass from speakers. Her mind screamed at her, telling her to do something. Anything. Her eyes darted around the backseat desperately looking for a way out. But there were few options while she was handcuffed to a door. Her gaze fell to the window, her one passage to the outside world. She scooted her body as far as she could away from the door she was cuffed to, and stretched her left foot up, testing if she could reach it.

Suddenly, the Forester jumped forward and began to pick up speed. Olivia heard the diesel engine roar to life, shuddering as it slowly accelerated. She lifted her left leg again, pulled it back into her chest and kicked her heel forward against the window. Her foot bounced off of it with a dull thud. She saw Lewis turn his head, heard him yell in surprise, but she was already focused on another try. She brought her foot back and smashed it into the glass again, but still it remained intact. Lewis was threatening and furious. His hand shot out at her, clawing at her throat. She threw her arm up in attempt to shield herself, but one arm wasn't enough to fend off his strength. His fingers wrapped around her neck, squeezing while she frantically kicked at the window. His eyes darted between her and the road, the vehicle swerving as they struggled. Desperate for air, she did the only thing she could think of and sank her teeth into his arm.

"Bitch!"

He released his grip on her throat. She threw her foot into the glass again. She could see Lewis reach for the gun out of her periphery, taking it from waistband and pointing it at her, cold fury in his eyes. The sound of a car horn distracted him. He turned back to the road and pulled the wheel to the right, slamming on the brakes at the same time. But it was too late. They were jolted by an impact that sent the car careening off the road. Tires squealed. The sound of metal on metal blasted through the air, even as they moved over the unpaved ground, the car shaking beneath them. Olivia curled into herself as the Forester accelerated downhill. She wrapped her fingers around the chain of the cuff, brought her free arm up to shield her head and closed her eyes. They fell farther, faster. And then, with one final crash, everything stopped.

* * *

><p>The fire had nearly burned through the cabin by the time the fire department arrived on scene. The flames were extinguished quickly. Only thin gray tendrils of smoke remained, rising out of the ashes, leaving the air with a lingering acrid tinge to it. Firefighters in tan coats roamed the damaged structure putting out the remaining hot spots and clearing debris. The floor was gone in places, forcing them to maneuver carefully around the perimeter. Nick stared into the blackened ruins from just outside the frame, where scant bits of the wall were left intact. The fireplace stood tall in stark contrast to the piles of debris and ash left in the wake of the blaze. In the center of the room, the only remaining structure was a frame of wood. Based on the shape of it, he thought it'd probably once been a couch. He took a step closer and stared down into depths of the basement. Her prison. It was covered in scraps of the floor, the roof, ash. But what was hidden beneath the layer of rubble? His stomach recoiled at the thought.<p>

To his right, a few feet away, Brian stood with his arms folded across his chest, watching the men work with a vacant, desolated gaze. His shoulders were slumped, and at times, he dropped down onto his heels, as if the very thought that she might be gone was physically crushing him. Fin stood behind him, eyes to the ground, offering the occasional glance up at the sound of voices and shovels scraping. It seemed they all needed a bit of space to wrestle with the question that was left unanswered. Nick sensed a presence beside him and peered at Amanda, who was looking at the scene as if she was seeing it for the first time.

"This is hell," she said quietly.

He didn't bother to ask for clarification on the particulars of hell because he understood. It was in front of them. Around them. This had been Olivia's hell. And they were merely visitors to it.

Amanda waved Brian and Fin to her. They strode over quickly, eager for whatever news she might have to offer.

"What?" Brian asked anxiously.

Amanda's gaze flickered from one face to another before she spoke. "Lewis was spotted about fifteen miles north of here. Up in Cropseyville."

Nick sensed there was something more to it. "But?"

"It was half an hour ago."

They stared at her in disbelief.

"How're we just now hearin' about this?" Fin asked incredulously.

Amanda raised her shoulders. "Someone screwed up. It was a small town cop who took the report from witnesses on scene. He's probably never seen more than a traffic stop in his life. He didn't follow procedure." She paused, shaking her head reproachfully. "Lewis was right in front of him and he missed him."

Nick felt like he'd been struck. He put his fingertips to his forehead, exasperation and disbelief evident in his features.

"State and county have been out patrolling the roads. They're checking abandoned buildings, churches, everything -"

"We all know he's not in any of those places. He's gone," Brian interjected angrily, the volume of his voice increasing steadily. "I can't believe this."

"The witnesses. Who are they?" Nick asked.

"Um...the Brennan's. An older couple. They were stopped at a parade barrier, waiting for the road to open. The wife talked to him, noticed a 'Proud to be a Vietnam War Veteran' medallion hanging from the mirror. Given Lewis' age, that was a giant red flag. It was her husband that recognized him from the news."

"What about Liv?" Brian asked hesitantly.

Amanda shook her head. Brian's face fell.

"But that doesn't mean anything," she reminded him. "He'd keep her hidden. In the trunk or covered up on the floor. We know that."

They stood in stunned silence, staring into the ground.

"I have an address. I think we should talk to them ourselves. Maybe Lewis said something that might give us an idea of where he's going."

"Yeah, we should," Nick agreed. "You know, the Allen house is up there. It's where he got the car in the first place. He might've been headed back."

"If he was, he never made it there. A unit drove past the house after the report came in. No sign of him."

"There's police tape all over that house. Even if he went there, he'd have left the second he saw it," Brian added.

Nick nodded in agreement. "So, we talk to the Brennan's and go from there."

"You guys coming?" Amanda directed the question to Fin and Brian.

"I can't leave. Not yet," Brian answered soberly. "I just...I need to know."

Amanda pursed her lips and nodded. "Okay, we got this." She raised her eyebrows at Fin. He shook his head.

"You two go ahead. Probably best we stay here."

Amanda patted her partner's shoulder as she walked away. Nick threw one final glance back to the cabin, and then followed her. They strode through the clearing, past a group of police officers and a squad car, where Sergeant Stevens and Alicia were huddled together, watching Deputy Jackson pace with a cell phone to his ear. Alicia beckoned to them with a wave and they obliged.

"What's up?" Amanda asked.

"I wanted to talk to you guys about Simon."

"Why? Did something happen?"

"No. We still have a unit on him. But this is all going to get out soon, no matter how much we try to keep a lid on it. I think it might be best if we go ahead and bring him in. Before he realizes we just staged a raid on his property."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

Amanda deferred to Nick, who was distracted by Deputy Jackson's conversation.

"Yeah," he agreed finally, realizing they were waiting for his reply. "Arrest the bastard."

"Okay, I'll let our guys know."

Jackson ended his call, looking dazed, eyeing the phone in his hand.

"Was that about Lewis?" Nick asked, approaching him.

"What?" he asked, taken off guard. "No. My daughter. She was in car accident."

"Is she okay?" Alicia asked.

"Yeah. She was with her boyfriend. Luckily they're both okay. Shaken up. I need to call my wife."

He stepped away before they had a chance to say anything else.

"That's scary," Alicia murmured, still watching Jackson. "Glad she's alright."

_At least he knows she's alive. _Nick bit back the surly retort, silently admonishing himself for it. It wasn't her. He liked Alicia. It was that place. It was everything. A frustration born of bitterness and regret. Horror seemed to be seeping into his bones, taking up permanent residence in his body, darkening everything he thought and saw. He needed to get out of there.

"Yeah, me too," he agreed. "Come on. Let's go."

* * *

><p>She was pressed against the front seats, the cuff on her wrist taut, cutting unmercifully into her flesh. It was silent, but for faint voices she heard in the distance and the noises of malcontent that came from the car. Her right side ached, having taken the brunt of the crash's force. She struggled to catch her breath. Each inhale produced a sharp, stabbing pain that threatened to darken her vision. She leaned her head to the side, peering into the driver's seat at Lewis. He hadn't stirred. He was slumped over the wheel, arms hanging limply at his sides, motionless. For a brief moment, when she couldn't be sure if he was breathing, a fleeting moment of hope seized her…maybe he was dead. But it didn't take her long to recognize the movement of his chest. Inhale. Exhale. The monster was dormant, not dead. She shifted her focus to finding the gun, remembering he'd had it in his hand when they'd crashed. But it wasn't in his hand now, and she didn't see it anywhere else. A gnawing mix of panic and frustration consumed her. He was unconscious, but she couldn't move. She looked over her head at the place where the handcuff was attached to the door. It looked solid, unyielding. But Lewis' unconscious state and her desperation to be free from him had her feeling similarly unyielding. She reached up with her right hand and pulled on it with all her might, gritting her teeth against the necessary pain she was inflicting on her body. But it didn't even threaten to move. She released it, closed her eyes and swam through her own misery, watching tiny specks of light pop in and out of the black space in front of her eyes.<p>

Olivia registered footsteps outside the vehicle. Sticks snapped beneath shoes, leaves rustled as they were kicked aside. Then there was a voice.

"Hey man, you okay?"

She hesitated for a moment, her eyes darting between Lewis and the outside, struggling against an invisible barrier within herself, one that said someone would get hurt if she screamed for help. But after another quick examination of Lewis' unconscious form, she finally found her voice.

"Help me," she choked out. "Please."

The footsteps moved quickly over the ground, closer, until she saw a profile in the window. A young man, seventeen, maybe eighteen years old, glanced at Lewis through the busted out window, then put his hands around his eyes, peering through the tinted glass, into the backseat. He pulled on the back door, managing to wrench it open with some effort. Whatever he'd expected to see among the wreckage of the car, a tortured, barely-clothed woman, handcuffed to the door apparently wasn't it. His eyes bulged and his mouth dropped open in shock.

"Oh God. Shit." He put a hand over his mouth, staring at the cuff around her bleeding wrist. He leaned into the vehicle. "Just...hang on. I'll get you out of there."

_He's young. _

She could hear Lewis' words echoing in her head. But this wasn't Jimmy Hamilton. Jimmy Hamilton was dead. Lewis had killed him. And this kid, who probably wasn't old enough to graduate high school, would die, too, if Lewis woke up. He'd have to search Lewis for the key to get her out and that was too dangerous.

Olivia squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. "No, don't -" She paused, gasping for air. "You can't. Please just...call the police."

"My girlfriend called them. They're on the way." He looked away and, on cue, the faint sound of the sirens floated to them. He pointed in the direction he'd come from. "I'll get them. Are you gonna be okay?"

Olivia nodded in response. It was lie. An egregious one at that. She was far from okay. But she needed him to get help. And she needed him away from Lewis. The kid peered around the door frame, through the driver side window at Lewis, and then cast one final concerned look at her, before bolting out of sight. She listened to his footfall get softer until she could no longer hear it. The sound of sirens began to fill the air and she felt a flicker of hope ignite. She listened to them get louder, trying to block out the pain that came with each breath. Her gaze darted to Lewis and remained locked on him, until she heard the light thud of footsteps against the ground again.

Seconds later, a woman in a dark police uniform with a gun held outstretched in front of her, appeared at the opening of the door. She cast a quick glance at Olivia, then rounded on the driver side window, her gun aimed at Lewis. She threw the door open and stepped back. She reached out and placed two fingers to his neck, feeling for a pulse. Olivia watched Lewis disappear from the driver's seat. Heard the thud of his body against the ground, the jangling of handcuffs and the final snap when they were locked into place. A woman with a blonde ponytail and light blue eyes appeared at the back door and leaned in. Her gaze swept over Olivia and the momentary flicker of horror was unmistakable.

"Are you Sergeant Benson?"

Olivia hesitated, her mind echoing with a chorus of responses, all of them denials. She didn't feel like Sergeant Benson. And an affirmative answer felt like she would be staking a claim on someone else's life. The officer stared expectantly at her. Surely confused at her difficulty in answering this simple question.

"Y- Yes," she finally answered, against her own dissent.

"I'm Officer Sinclair. Rensselaer County Sheriff's Deputy." Sinclair's face softened. "You're safe now, Sergeant. It's over."

* * *

><p>The landscape was bright and still. They drove north on a two lane highway over gently sloping hills of sparse woods and the occasional scattering of homes. There were remnants of the previous night's storm everywhere. Puddles sprinkled over the road. Water standing in ditches and fields. The grass was greener. The soil darker, almost black. It was as if the rain had washed all the color away that night and the sun had painted it anew. But this bright new world was a mirage. A promise unfulfilled. Within the confines of unmarked Crown Vic, the world was darker than ever. They rode in silence with only the occasional sounds from a dispatch officer interjecting into the hush. Speech required effort, and they were too distressed and tired for effort. Nick could tell the lack of sleep was catching up with him. His head was pounding with unprecedented force. He absently rubbed his fingers across his forehead, then slammed the visor down in front of him, shielding out the sun that was shining in his eyes.<p>

"You alright?"

"Fine. Headache."

They resumed their song of silence, watching the scenery pass by in a blur. Seeing, yet blinded by memories of fire and ruin. Regret and sorrow festered within like poison, slowly eating away at them.

The sound of a blaring siren rang out from behind them, getting closer, louder, with each second. Nick stared into the rearview mirror and saw the flashing red and blues of an ambulance approaching. He pulled off onto the shoulder of the road and brought the car to a stop. When it'd passed, he steered the car back onto the pavement.

"It's not his style."

"What?" Nick's voice was awash in confusion, having been plucked from his own thoughts.

"The fire."

"You're joking, right?" Nick brought the car to a halt at a stop sign. He waited for a van to pass, then turned left onto another highway. "Fire isn't Lewis' style?"

"That's not what I meant," she contended with a measure of exasperation. "When I saw the fire, I thought…" Her voice trailed off. "I think we all thought the same thing."

"I don't want to talk -"

Amanda continued over him. "But the more I think about it, the less sense it makes. Lewis is obsessed with Olivia. It's personal to him."

Nick rested his elbow on the door and let his head fall against his fingertips. It was the last thing he wanted to think about, let alone discuss. Especially now.

"Fire is impersonal. I'm not talking about torture." She seemed to lose her voice as she said the word. "If he - If he killed her, I don't think it would be like that. It doesn't feel right."

"Nothing about this feels right."

Another ambulance raced toward them. Nick pulled over to the side of the road again, then steered back on when it was gone. Amanda shifted in her seat, craning her neck to watch it disappear in the passenger side mirror.

"They must be headed to the crash."

"Probably. Must've been bad." Nick grabbed the dial and turned the volume up on the radio, which had served as faint background noise on their drive until that point.

The radio squawked obnoxiously. A chorus of static filled the silence. Then a man's voice came through the speakers, loud, punctuated by interference.

"_What was the location on that crash again?"_

The responding voice was prompt and even. _"State route two, near the forty five mile marker."_

"That's right down the road," Amanda noted.

Another man's voice, loud and urgent, echoed through the car speakers_. "Dispatch this is one two five on scene. What's the ETA on backup?"_

_"__Two minutes, one two five."_

The transmission cut out, garbling the officer's response.

The shrill ring of Amanda's phone interjected into the commotion. A look of apprehension passed between them. There was only one phone call they expected, the one that would tell them whether Olivia had been in the cabin when it burned.

"It's Fin," she said ominously. She pressed her finger against the screen and answered it. "Hey Fin."

Nick could hear the Fin's muffled voice, but was unable to discern his words. Amanda was quiet, listening to what he had to say, offering no response. When Nick looked at her, she was leaning forward, a hand over her other ear, eyes narrowed in concentration. Suddenly she sat up straight.

"Nick. Stop," she blurted out, her hand raised for emphasis.

"Why?"

"I'll explain just -," she stopped mid sentence and spoke into the phone again. "Yeah. We're on our way."

Nick slowed the car, not quite committed to the idea of stopping. Not until he knew why. Amanda hung up the phone and looked at him with wide eyes full of surprise.

"What the hell is going on?"

Amanda spoke quickly, barely taking a breath as she relayed the information. "After we left, Jackson's daughter called him again. The one who was in the car accident. She told him her boyfriend went to help a guy in a car that had gone down an embankment. When he got down there, he found a woman handcuffed to the door in the backseat."

A rush of heat rolled through Nick's body. His heart rate quickened. He heard the words reverberating in his head, over and over, louder and louder until he could feel them vibrating throughout his body. Nick slammed his foot down on the brake and pulled the wheel to the left. The wild turn sent the car off the road, onto mud and grass. The tires slipped beneath them as he steered back onto the pavement. He put his foot down on the gas pedal, pushing it to the floor. The car shot forward. The needle of the speedometer climbing higher and higher, until it was resting as far right as it could go. And it still wasn't fast enough.

"It's gotta be Olivia," Amanda insisted.

"Did he say if she was alive?" he asked desperately.

"Yeah."

"What about Lewis?"

"I don't know." She waited a beat, then spoke again. "Let's hope he's dead."

* * *

><p><em>It's over. <em>

Those words still echoed in her head as Sinclair put the handcuff key into the cuffs and twisted.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, noting the wince of pain when she freed Olivia's hand. Olivia cradled her battered, bleeding wrist to her chest and inhaled a ragged breath.

"EMS is en route. Just hang on, Sergeant."

_Hang on._ It sounded so simple. But it felt impossible. Because her body seemed to be collapsing under everything that it'd endured, and even breathing had become a burden too great for her. She struggled to fill her lungs, a fight she felt she was losing. She started to panic and braced her hands against the floor, needing to sit up. Pieces of glass dug into her palms as she pushed herself into a sitting position, arms shaking beneath her, releasing small whimpers of pain. When she was upright, she leaned against the seat, taking gasping breaths, her eyes closed.

Sinclair reached for the radio transmitter on her shoulder and held down the button, speaking into it.

"Chris, what's the ETA on that ambulance?"

_"A couple minutes. We had to send one off already.__ One of the vics on the bus was critical. You need backup down there?"_

"Uh. Yeah. Probably wouldn't hurt. This guy is cuffed and unconscious, but we need to have the EMTs check him out so we can get him in the car."

_"Copy that. I'll be right there."_

Olivia lifted her arm and braced it against the backseat, attempting to push herself up.

"Maybe you should wait until the EMTs get down here," Sinclair suggested gently.

Olivia shook her head and continued to lift herself up off the floor.

"Okay, okay. Here." She felt Sinclair's gentle hands on her back, supporting her. She made it up onto the seat, the edges of her vision starting to close in again.

"There you go. Just rest."

Olivia placed a hand over her right side, wincing. She shivered uncontrollably, eyes fluttering open and shut.

Sinclair stared at her, concern written on her face. "Let me get you that -"

Her voice cut off. There was a surprised yelp, then a heavy thud against the car. Olivia turned her head, horrified to find Lewis conscious, his hand wrapped around the back of Sinclair's neck, holding her against the car.

"I have one of these, too," he taunted, dangling a key in Sinclair's face.

But Sinclair was undaunted. She struck out with her elbow, making contact with his ribs, then reached for her gun, pulling it from the holster. Lewis quickly put his hand over hers and, after a short struggle, wrenched it from her.

"It's too bad we don't have more time. We could've had some fun," Lewis sneered, his body pressed against Sinclair's. Olivia reached for the door, but he kicked it shut with his foot, slammed Sinclair against the door, and put the gun to her head.

"No! Lewis don't do this," Olivia begged, pushing against the door. Sinclair's face was darkened by the tint of the window, but Olivia could see the fear in her eyes.

"Please. I have kids."

Sinclair was pleading for her life, begging a monster for mercy. But monsters knew nothing of mercy.

There were no games. It was unceremonious. An execution. Two pairs of eyes joined across the glass and then a single, thunderous gunshot that pierced the air. Olivia flinched. Her eyes momentarily flickered to Sinclair, whose gaze was unseeing, face expressionless. She squeezed her eyes shut and threw a hand over her mouth, muffling a sob. The sound of fabric, metal and skin sliding against the exterior of the car assaulted her ears, with the thud of Sinclair's body hitting the ground as the final blow. For a moment, everything stopped and she was trapped in a moment with only the gunshot and lifeless blue eyes.

Lewis' tapping of the gun against the window freed her from the captivity of that image. She scrambled across the seat and fell out the open door, onto the ground. She braced her hands against the dirt and glass, her head spinning, vision blurry and dimming. She sat still for a moment, squeezing her eyes shut, afraid she'd lose consciousness. That was a luxury she couldn't afford. Distantly, she could hear his footsteps getting closer. She needed to move. Easier said than done.

"Did you really think it was going to be that easy?"

Olivia opened her eyes and peered through the heavy fog engulfing her mind. Light shimmered off shards of glass beneath her hand. She wrapped her fingers around a large piece and leaned into the car.

"You should know better by now."

She braced a forearm against the open door and attempted to hoist herself up to no avail. She fell back to the ground and sprawled to the side, making an attempt to crawl away. Lewis appeared around the vehicle, gun held at his side. He was bleeding from a cut above his eye and various small cuts on his face and arms. He approached her, hand held against his stomach, a more pronounced limp in his step. When he reached the open door, he took hold of it and slammed it shut. She peered up at him through bleary eyes, concealing the glass in her hand.

"Olivia!"

A wave of recognition washed over her at the sound of the familiar voice.

"Nick," she whispered.

She stared past Lewis to where she heard the approaching footfall pounding down the embankment. Multiple sets of feet thudding against the ground.

Lewis looked over his shoulder, then quickly pulled her to her feet, put his arm across her torso and the gun to her head. The sudden movement forced an agonized cry from her lips and sent her hurtling toward darkness. She heard Nick call out to her again, but it sounded far away. She was disoriented, weak. Her limbs were heavy, her mind heavier. And the more she fought to stay present, the farther away she drifted. She could do nothing but wait...for the bullet, for her partner. She wasn't sure which one would come first. But a second later, her answer came in the form of blurry figures and the stunned, tremulous voice of her partner.

"Liv."

* * *

><p>Nick came to a stop mere feet from Lewis, Amanda and two uniformed officers at his side. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure on the ground. Blonde hair stained with blood, and a dark uniform much like the one the officers next to him were wearing. He tore his eyes from the lifeless form and aimed the gun at Lewis' head, but he barely registered his own instinctive movement, because all he could see was Olivia. Alive. His relief was short-lived as the inevitable inventory of her condition stole the breath from his body. She was almost unrecognizable to him. Her face was a mass of cuts, bruises, and dried blood. Her eyes were sunken in, her skin pale. She looked small and fragile with the torn, long sleeve, navy shirt hanging off of her dwindling form. Burns, bruises and cuts littered nearly every inch of her exposed skin, leaving only small patches of her flesh unmarred. But it was her eyes that pained him most. Olivia's eyes told stories she would never allow her words to convey. But those warm, expressive eyes were now desolate and pained. Their stories had been silenced. It was enough to make him want to break down and tell her how sorry he was right then and there.<p>

"Hello Nick. How's Zara?" Lewis threw his daughter's name like a knife. "Does she miss me? I miss her."

"Shut up."

Lewis smirked and shifted his focus. "Amanda. It's nice to see you again."

Amanda ignored this. "It's over, Lewis. Drop the gun."

"Over? Oh, it's not over." He pressed his face against the back of Olivia's head. "Is it, sweetheart?"

"Let her go," Nick demanded.

"What are you gonna do if I don't? Shoot me?" Lewis pushed the gun into Olivia's temple. "Go ahead. But I think we both know you don't have the balls to take the shot." He cocked his head to the side. "Let's see if I'm right about that."

Lewis moved his hand to the slit in the neckline of Olivia's shirt. He slid his fingers beneath the material, pressing against a burn on her breast, groping, daring Nick to take the shot and end her torture. Olivia made a low whimpering noise and recoiled from his touch. Nick's fingers squeezed the gun, the muscles in his forearm clenched.

"Don't touch her," Nick spat.

Lewis chuckled. Then, his face slowly transformed and he looked like he was preparing to strike. "There's not an inch of her skin I haven't touched."

"I'm going to kill you," Nick threatened, shaking with quiet rage.

Lewis leaned down so his mouth was at Olivia's ear, holding her chin in his hand. "Look at them. They're not going to save you. No one is going to -"

Nick saw Olivia throw her arm up and turn in his grasp. Lewis released her and she fell to the ground. She clambered away from him, seeking refuge against the car, while Lewis stumbled backward, his eyes wild and surprised. Nick was trying to make sense of what'd happened, when he saw the blood pouring out of a wound in Lewis' neck. Lewis clamped his hand over the wound and blood seeped through his fingers. He took his hand away briefly and stared at the proof of the fatal injury that'd been inflicted on him. He put his hand back to his neck and fixed his gaze on Olivia.

"It's not over," he promised in a choked whisper. He raised the gun from his side and aimed it at her. Gunshots rang out, echoing through the trees. Lewis was knocked back but remained upright, bleeding from multiple gunshot wounds. The gun dropped from his hand. He took one final look at Olivia, then he fell to the ground.

Nick shoved his gun into the holster at his side and ran to Olivia, Amanda following behind him. Her gaze was locked on Lewis' motionless form, watching him as if she was waiting for him to get up and come for her again. Nick dropped down on his knees in front of her, gently beckoning to her.

"Liv."

Her eyes darted to him. Alert, on guard. Nick held up his hands in front of him.

"It's just me."

He could see the battle in her eyes. The fight between recognition and a wound so deep, it transcended all memory and familiarity.

"He's gone, Liv. It's over," Nick whispered. "You're safe."

Her gaze dropped to her hand where she held a piece of glass so tightly, it'd cut into her skin. She let it fall from her grip and stared up into Nick's face.

"Nick."

It might've been the crack in her voice as she said his name, or the pain he saw in her face. But something about that moment nearly demolished the barrier holding back his emotions. His eyes were suddenly wet and blurry. He clenched his jaw, fighting back the burning in his throat.

"Yeah," he said softly, "I'm right here."

Amanda turned to the men standing behind her. "Get the EMTs down here. Now."

The officers jogged up the embankment, disappearing out of sight.

The new proximity to Olivia only made the severity of her injuries that much worse. And those were the visible ones. He quickly began to fear that she was fighting an injury that was invisible to him. Because she was pale, her breaths rapid and shallow, her body shaking uncontrollably. Nick pulled his jacket off and held it up to her.

"I'm just going to put this over you," he told her, draping it over her legs.

She brought a hand to her side, wincing in pain.

"Help is coming. Just hold on."

She closed her eyes and put her head back against the vehicle.

"Liv?" Amanda's voice raised an octave, infused by fear. "Hey…"

Nick watched the rise and fall of her chest, yet somehow this did nothing to quell the disquiet. Panic was slowly creeping in. He resisted the urge to reach out and touch her, shake her, demand that she open her eyes.

"Liv, I need you to stay awake," Nick told her, pleading. "Liv…"

To his relief, her eyes cracked open.

"Hey."

"I'm...tired."

"I know you are, but I need you to keep talking to me."

The truth was he didn't know. Not at all. He couldn't even begin to comprehend the depths of hell he saw in her eyes. The devastation that'd been inflicted on her body. But he needed her to keep her eyes open. At least until the EMTs got there and could tell him she was going to be okay.

"Zara's been asking about you. She's going to be so happy to see you."

"Is...she...okay?"

"Yeah," he answered, nodding his head emphatically. "Yeah, she's going to be fine."

She peered back at him through slits. He could see something in her eyes, something besides pain. Relief, he thought.

Nick heard footsteps behind him. He turned and saw two men in dark blue uniforms approaching, carrying an orange backboard and large bags. The two police officers jogged behind them. He turned back to Olivia.

"The EMTs are here. They're going to help you. Okay?"

Uncertainty flashed in her eyes, but she nodded in resignation.

"Detective, we'll take it from here," a young, dark-haired EMT told him. Nick took this as a signal that he had to move. It felt wrong. Even a step away was too much. He'd just gotten her back and the need to protect her was overwhelming. But she needed help he couldn't give her. He hesitantly got up and stepped back, his eyes never leaving his partner. The EMTs knelt down beside her and began explaining that they were going to move her. She nodded her head in understanding. They maneuvered her onto her back and then lifted her, gently placing her on the backboard. Olivia squeezed her eyes shut and kept them closed even after they were done. Nick noted there were creases between her brows that he associated with pain.

The EMTs began moving around her hurriedly. They threw a blanket over her, checked her vitals, all while asking Nick questions he didn't have the answers to. He kept his eyes on her the entire time, watching for a hint that she was distressed, noting a slight twinge when they put the oxygen mask on her.

Amanda appeared beside him, worry etched into her face.

"She's gonna be okay."

It sounded more like hope than fact. The EMTs threw out words like shock and dehydration that only served to intensify their unease. One of the EMTs fastened a strap across Olivia's torso, securing her to the board. The moment Olivia registered the restraint resting over her arms, her eyes snapped open and she began to struggle against it.

"No," she mumbled through the oxygen mask, pulling at the restraint. And then she was fighting the oxygen mask, too. She began shaking her head from side to side, trying to bring her hands up to pull the mask off her face, panicked at the feel of immobility. The EMTs were coaxing her, telling her she was safe, but she didn't hear them. Her eyes flew over the faces until they came to Nick, who pushed the two men aside. He quickly unbuckled the strap and pulled the mask away from her face.

"It's okay, Liv." Nick reached for her hand, lightly touching his fingertips to hers. "You're okay. Just breathe."

"Please…" Her voice trailed off in an unintelligible mumble.

She didn't need to say the words. He understood. She was terrified of being strapped down. How many times had Lewis restrained her? Held her down? One glimpse of her bloody, bruised wrists beneath the shirt sleeves was enough to tell the tale. Olivia inhaled and exhaled a few ragged breaths, her frightened eyes never leaving his. He felt fingers curl around his own, squeezing lightly. His gaze dropped to his hand at the gesture. And that was when he saw it. The angry red wound in her hand surrounded by dried blood. He noted the way two of her fingers barely moved at all. The realization of the injury Lewis had inflicted on her was the final blow to his composure. He felt a tear slide down his face and quickly wiped at it.

"We have to use the straps," the dark-haired EMT insisted, moving toward her. "She has to be secure on the board when we carry her up and transport her."

Amanda rounded on him angrily. "Hey. Can you just give her a minute?"

"We can leave her arms out," the older EMT offered. "That might help her feel less restrained."

Amanda's looked at him gratefully, then nodded at Nick who was peering over his shoulder at them.

Nick turned back to Olivia, leaning in closer to her. "Liv, we've gotta get you to the hospital and the only way we can do that is if they put those straps over you. But they're not going to put them over your arms again." He grabbed her hand. "I'll be right here. If you tell me to take them off, I will. I promise."

Olivia closed her eyes, inhaled deeply and nodded.

The EMTs went back to Olivia's side and re-secured the oxygen mask over her face. When they were sure this wouldn't cause any further distress, they slowly began securing the straps, allowing her arms to remain free. Nick kept his hand in hers, felt her squeeze as each strap was placed over her. When they finished, they each grabbed hold of an end of the backboard and lifted it. The two police officers stepped up to grab the sides, but Nick and Amanda grabbed them instead. They began carrying Olivia away from the wreckage of the Forester, up the embankment. The officers jogged in front of them, helping at the steepest parts of the hill when it was difficult to get their footing. When they got to the top, all eyes seemed to be on them. Everything and everyone had stopped. Police, EMTs, people in their vehicles or outside of them. Some with their phones out, recording the action. They hurried toward the ambulance, past squad cars and firetrucks that were parked at the side of the road, some in the road, all with their lights flashing.

"Nick! Amanda!"

Nick turned his head and saw Brian and Fin running toward them. Amanda stopped to meet them, while Nick continued forward as the EMTs carried Olivia to the ambulance.

"We heard the shots fired message over the radio. Is she - Was she hit?" Brian asked.

"No," Amanda reassured him. "She wasn't shot. But she's in bad shape."

Brian looked like a man who'd been lost, found and lost again in a matter of seconds. He rushed past her to where the EMTs had laid the backboard on a stretcher and were re-securing Olivia to it.

"Liv," Brian whispered, staring down at her. He reached for her hand, grasping it in his.

Her eyes fluttered open, alarmed at first, then recognition washed over her, and he felt her squeeze his fingers. The young EMT jumped up inside the ambulance and prepared to bring Olivia in.

"Which hospital are you taking her to," Amanda asked.

"St. Mary's."

The EMTs hoisted the stretcher into the ambulance.

"I'm going with her," Brian insisted without invitation.

"Only you. Hurry, we've gotta move."

Brian climbed up into the ambulance and went to Olivia's side.

"Cassidy," Nick beckoned to him. Brian turned and stepped back into the doorway. "The straps on the backboard, they freaked her out. Just...make sure she's okay."

Brian inclined his head in acknowledgement.

The ambulance doors closed, the lights flipped on and the siren sounded. A group of people who'd been gawking, moved aside as it began to leave. Nick, Amanda and Fin stood in the middle of the road, watching it accelerate away.

"We should go," Fin said finally, when the ambulance was a speck on the horizon.

Nick tore his eyes from the disappearing ambulance and surveyed the scene. There was a car in the ditch, a bus laying on it's side, a van with a smashed front end a few feet from the bus. Destruction was everywhere. Lewis had left a path of it, reminiscent of a hurricane. The cabin, the crash, the lifeless body of the blonde-haired police officer. But the reality of Lewis' devastation had never been more palpable than in the fear and pain he'd seen in his partner's eyes. He could still see it. Maybe he always would.

One by one they turned and walked away, into the approaching night. They wore heavy limbs and dazed looks. And no words were spoken. Because none could be found.


	19. Chapter 19

**Not really much to say about this. Obviously I suck at life and, specifically, updating. My motivation to write marches to the beat of it's own drum and there's not been much of a beat lately. Unfortunately for those still with me, this is a pretty boring chapter you're getting after such a long break, so my apologies. But, I have to write the story as I see it in my head and I felt like this chapter needed to be what it is. A huge thank you to the fabulous Doctor Sara for providing her medical expertise on this one. She spent a good hour answering my questions, and was just an all around rockstar about it. Also, anything that I might have gotten wrong is my own error and not hers, as there were a few things that I didn't ask her specifically about because an hour of dealing with my ignorance was enough. So I think that's it. I hope you manage to find this somewhat entertaining/worth reading. **

* * *

><p><em>"She lost consciousness in the ambulance."<em>

"Detective."

_"I don't know if she's… I don't know."_

"Detective Amaro."

_"What happened out there?"_

"Detective Amaro?"

He felt fingertips on his shoulder, demanding his attention. His head whipped to the side. He found the kind face of a nurse staring at him with concern.

"Could you roll up your sleeve?"

"Yeah, sorry."

He quickly did as she requested and stuck his arm out on the small table in front of him.

"Are you alright, Detective? If you need to talk to someone…"

"No. I just need to see my partner. Have you - Do you know if she's okay?"

"I don't, I'm sorry," she said sincerely. "I know you're ready to get out of here. I'll make this as quick as possible."

She examined the vein in his arm, then ran an alcohol pad over the site. She discarded the pad in the garbage and made her way across the room.

Nick heard a stray voice from the room next door where Amanda was also waiting to have her blood taken. Neither were strangers to the procedure. Yet familiar as it was, there was very little in the way of precedent for a situation like the one they were in. Out of jurisdiction, with the whole of the NYPD four hours away. After speaking with the Captain, who'd been in contact with 1PP, it seemed all involved agreed allowing the state police to run the show for the time being was the easiest solution. The Captain had offered to call a delegate for them, but in this case it was more of a formality than anything. There wasn't a delegate within an hour of the hospital. Not that it mattered. The only thing they'd find in his blood was an abundance of fear and regret.

The nurse hurried back across the room and laid tubes on the arm of the chair. She produced a purple band and wrapped it around his upper arm.

"Make a fist."

He clenched his hand and she pressed on a vein until she was satisfied with it. She attached a collection tube to the needle and held the needle over his arm.

"A little stick."

She pressed the needle into his arm. He watched the point break his skin, and slide into the vein, with a distant numbness. He glanced at the clock on the wall, but realized he had no idea when they'd gotten to the hospital or how long it'd been. Too long was the only measure he could ascribe to it. His phone vibrated on the table next to him. He picked it up and read the message from Maria.

Amidst the chaos of the fire, the crash, the hurry to get to the hospital, any thought of updating her had left his mind. He typed out a brief message with one hand letting her know they'd found Olivia and they were at the hospital.

The nurse untied the band around his arm and pulled the needle out, replacing it with a piece of gauze, which she taped to his arm.

"Okay. You're done, Detective."

"Thanks."

He shoved the phone in his pocket and fumbled at his shirt sleeve as he walked out the door. When he stepped into the hallway, Fin was standing against the wall waiting for him. The sight of him there, grim-faced, stopped Nick in his tracks.

"What's wrong?" He asked fearfully.

Fin held up his hand. "I just came to tell you and Amanda they're moving Olivia up to the ICU."

Nick released a breath, but the relief was short lived as the weight of Fin's statement settled on him.

"How is she?"

Fin shook his head. "I dunno. They didn't tell us anything."

"Cassidy up there?"

"Yeah," Fin confirmed.

Nick put his back to the wall across from Fin, staring down onto the tiled floor.

"If she's in the ICU, it's bad."

"We don't know that. There's no point in makin' assumptions."

He didn't argue, but it didn't stop his mind from running through every moment, from the time he'd first seen Olivia, until the time she'd disappeared into the ambulance, conjuring a litany of terrible possibilities. He didn't even realize he'd begun to pace up and down the hallway, until Fin's voice interrupted his rhythmic movement.

"I'll wait for Amanda. You go."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. It's fine."

The ICU waiting room was smaller than the ER, but with a more inviting warmth to it's decor. Beige walls, carpeted floor, pink flowers in vases situated on tables, and landscape portraits on the wall. There was a flat screen TV that hung on one end of the room emitting a constant stream of noise. At the front of the room was a small reception desk where a young woman with light brown hair was talking on the phone. And next to it, a set of double doors with the words **Intensive Care Unit** over the entryway. It was quiet, vacant, but for a few people scattered about in the large, comfortable-looking chairs. A much different world from the ER with the crowds of people, plain walls, and harsh light. He spotted Brian in a chair at the front of the room, his head in his hands. He looked defeated and distraught. Nick anxiously maneuvered through the chairs to where he sat.

"Cassidy."

Brian lifted his head at Nick's voice.

"How is she?"

Brian shook his head, motioning toward the front at the young woman. "She says she can't tell me anything. I'm waiting for a doctor."

"What's taking so long?" Nick asked, taking a seat across from Brian.

"I don't know," Brian answered, running his fingers over his short, cropped hair. "I can't stand this. I need to be in there with her, not stuck out here." He slammed his hand down on the arm of the chair.

"I'm sure it won't be long."

"You weren't in that ambulance. You didn't see her..." Brian lifted his gaze from the ground, glancing at Nick. "She's gotta be okay."

"She will be."

"You don't know that," Brian snapped, his tone suddenly cool. "Where are Fin and Rollins?"

"They should be up soon."

Brian nodded in acknowledgement, but his eyes were fixed to the ICU doors.

"Maybe I should go talk to her," Nick suggested.

Brian leveled Nick with a glare. "I told you I already did. She's not gonna tell you anything."

"Yeah, I heard you. I'm just sayin', an extra voice couldn't hurt."

"Whatever."

Nick bit back an angry retort. Brian seemed to be looking for a fight, and Nick understood that all too well. Trading fear for anger, because anger was so much easier to appease.

"Look, Cassidy -"

He cut off, relieved when he saw Fin and Amanda enter the waiting room. Nick pointed in their direction. Brian craned neck to see the two approaching.

"Still nothin'?" Fin asked, as he reached them.

Brian shook his head, still glowering.

"Damn."

They took seats next to Nick, across from Brian, all of them staring anxiously at the double doors to the ICU. They waited for what seemed like hours, but according to the clock on the wall, was only ten minutes. When the doors finally opened, however, it wasn't a doctor walking through them, but a gray-haired woman. She was crying, holding a tissue to her nose. A man met her as she made her way across the room and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"I hate hospitals," Fin muttered, watching them sit together on the other side of the room. "Depressing."

Amanda waved him off. "Shhh."

"What?"

"Look."

Amanda pointed to the TV. They all looked up in time to see a clip of Nick, Amanda and the EMTs carrying Olivia on a backboard toward an ambulance. The video was shaky, and it was obvious it'd been taken from a cell phone belonging to one of the bystanders. The view changed, and they were watching the EMTs load Olivia into the ambulance, Brian by her side. There was a red rectangle along the bottom of the screen with the words **'Kidnapped NYPD Officer Rescued: Two Dead'** in large, bold letters.

"They move quick," Fin said to no one in particular.

"Yeah," Amanda murmured distractedly, still watching the video, which now showed a black body bag being hoisted up the embankment onto a waiting stretcher. The view switched suddenly to a reporter standing outside, what Nick recognized as, the front of the hospital. She stared into the camera, held the microphone to her lips, and opened up her shoulders as she began reciting her rehearsed script.

_"Sergeant Olivia Benson was rushed to St. Mary's hospital to be treated for her injuries. A source inside the hospital tells me she's in serious condition and being treated in the Intensive Care Unit. As for any criminal charges that may arise from the kidnapping of Sergeant Benson and little Zara Amaro, the State Police Public Information Officer says the investigation is ongoing and they are looking at another suspect that may have been involved in some part of Lewis' crime spree. Stay tuned for more updates on this breaking story."_

The view shifted back to the newsroom where a man and a woman in heavy makeup sat behind a raised news desk, staring into the camera.

"We just need to find out who their source is. They can leak the information to us," Amanda said, her voice dripping with bitterness.

Nick was out of his chair before he'd registered his own intentions. And if anyone was protesting his impatient move, he didn't hear it. Not that he cared to. He made a beeline for the reception desk where the young woman, Amber, according to her name tag, was speaking with a tall, lanky man in scrubs, who was leaning against the desk. He waited a few seconds for her to acknowledge his presence. When she didn't, he interrupted their idle chatter.

"Excuse me."

"Yes sir. What can I do for you?"

Nick flashed his badge quickly. "I'm Detective Amaro. I'm trying to get an update on a patient that was admitted."

"Yes of course, Detective," Amber said, her back straightening. "What's the patient's name?"

"Olivia Benson."

"Just one moment, I'll see if I can get someone out here to speak with you."

Amber picked up the phone, flashing a smile as she put it to her ear. Nick tried to smile in return, but thought he'd failed in that endeavor. She held a short conversation with someone on the other end of the line, then hung up the phone.

"The doctor will be right out."

"Thank you."

Nick spun to find the others watching him. He turned his palms up, as if to say, 'we'll see what happens'.

"Detective, just so you know, there's coffee in that room right there," Amber told him, pointing in the direction of a small lounge.

"Thanks."

Moments later, the ICU doors opened, and a woman with short blonde hair, wearing a white coat over gray pants and a black shirt, approached him.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Marko. You're the detective?"

"Yes. Detective Amaro." Nick flashed his badge again.

"Amaro? I'm sorry, I'm confused. I assumed you were the detective from the state police that I talked to on the phone. Detective Granger."

"Uh no," Nick conceded, putting his badge away. "I'm with the NYPD. I'm working with the state police. Olivia...she's my partner. We've been looking for her since Monday night."

"I see," the doctor replied noncommittally.

"Listen, I'm desperate here. I just need to know if she's going to be okay. Please."

Dr. Marko scanned the waiting room, then motioned him toward a group of nearby chairs. He sat in one of them and Dr. Marko sat across from him. She clasped her hands in her lap and fixed her gaze on him.

"Technically, I'm not supposed to do this. Especially now that someone here is leaking information to the media. If anyone finds out I told you…"

"They won't," Nick assured her. "You have my word."

She paused, pursed her lips, and leaned forward.

"We tend to give cops some latitude, so...I will tell you that your partner's condition is serious. She's severely dehydrated, starved. Her right lung collapsed and she's bleeding internally from a liver laceration. Both of those injuries were caused by the broken ribs she sustained. The liver laceration is small enough that she may not need surgery, assuming the bleeding stops. Which is fortunate, because right now, frankly, I'm not sure she's stable enough to get through a surgery."

Nick's mouth was suddenly dry, and he was having a hard time forming the words to the question that resounded in his head.

"What about her lung?" he finally managed to choke out.

"She has a chest tube in to help her breathe," Dr. Marko explained. "It's draining the air that's pressing on her lung, which will allow the lung to reinflate. The tear should heal on it's own, but she'll have to keep the chest tube in for at least a few days."

Nick put his hand over his mouth, nodding silently. At his indication that he was still with her, Dr. Marko continued.

"She has a number of other injuries. Burns, cuts, a couple of broken bones. We've taken care of those injuries as best we can. She also sustained a stab wound to her left hand that will require surgery when she's stable."

"But she's going to be okay?"

"We never make promises in the ICU. You just never know. But if her liver stops bleeding and there are no other complications, then yes. I think she'll recover."

"Can I - can we see her?"

"I'll allow you to see her, one visitor at a time for now. You'll have to keep the visits short tonight. I should also warn you that she won't be conscious. We're giving her medication to keep her sedated for the time being in order to give her body a chance to heal. When her vitals start to improve, then we'll slowly take her off the sedative."

"Okay. Thank you, Doctor."

"You're welcome, Detective," she said kindly. "I'll send a nurse out to get you when you can see her."

Nick exhaled a long, deep breath and stood. He watched Dr. Marko disappear through the double doors, back into the ICU. Her words rushed through his head, intermingling with his own panicked thoughts, creating a deafening roar. He suddenly felt unsteady on his feet and reached a hand out, bracing himself against the back of the chair. He could feel eyes on him. He slowly turned, hand still planted on the chair, and stared across the room to the three anxious people watching him.

* * *

><p>The smell of sterility greeted him as he entered her room, something like antiseptic and cleaning solution. It was dark. The curtain was drawn across the windows, leaving the space black, but for a light that was attached to the wall above the head of the hospital bed. Her room was private. Something he was immensely grateful for. Being there was bad enough. The last thing he wanted was for some strangers to be witnesses to his despair.<p>

He took slow, quiet steps forward. Hesitant. Afraid. His gaze was drawn to the tube that protruded from beneath Olivia's hospital gown and ran below the bed to a small box. He could hear a faint sucking noise coming from it and surmised it must be the chest tube. There were wires and tubes in her arms, her chest, her nose. His eyes traveled over her, taking a mental inventory of the marks on her face, her neck, her arms. A splint covered her left wrist and her hand was bandaged. There were bandages around her right arm, just below her elbow, and bruises circled her wrist.

He leaned forward and slowly, lightly placed the backs of his fingers against her cheek. He let his hand slide up to her forehead, pushing at the strands of hair around her face, lightly tracing over her temple down to her cheekbone; careful to skip over the bandage, which he knew covered a gash in her head.

He stared into her battered face against the white pillow, days of torture and agony written into her skin in angry red marks and discolored patches. As vivid a story as any novel ever written. His sorrow for her was all consuming. The physical ache of it almost too much to bear. He leaned down and put his forehead to hers, savoring the feel of her cool skin against his. When he lifted his head, a drop of moisture was streaking down her cheek. He studied her face, certain somehow, despite the sedative, she must have awakened. But she hadn't, and it was then he realized the tear had come from his own wet eyes, not hers. He wiped the drop from her cheek, swiped the wetness from beneath his own eyes, and pressed his lips to her forehead.

"I'm sorry, Liv," Brian whispered into her skin. "I'm so sorry."

* * *

><p>Nick stopped outside of Zara's room and put his back to the wall, letting his head fall back against it. Days of worry, frustration, and fear washed over him in waves that threatened to pull him to the floor and drown him. The images from those days were relentless. They flashed through his head like a narrated slide show on a never ending loop.<p>

_The forest. The fire. A gunshot. Lewis and his taunts. Lewis assaulting Olivia. The doctor's sympathetic face. The horrific list of injuries. Olivia in the hospital bed. Olivia's desolate eyes._

The door to the room across the hall swung open, interrupting the onslaught of images and memories. A nurse stepped out into the hallway and, when she noticed him, smiled politely before walking past him to the nearby work station. Nick took a breath, braced his hands against the wall, and pushed himself away from it. He turned to the door, twisted the knob, and took a step inside Zara's room.

Maria was sitting at Zara's bedside; she lifted her head at his appearance. "Hey," she whispered, studying his face, searching for some hint of the answer to the question she was preparing to ask. "How is she?"

Nick trudged to the bed and dropped down into a chair at Zara's bedside, across from Maria. He could feel her eyes on him, begging for an answer that he couldn't seem to vocalize yet. He let his gaze linger on his daughter's sleeping form. She looked peaceful. The covers were drawn up to her chest, her face relaxed. He reached out and touched her small fingers protruding from the cast that covered her arm, before lifting his head to meet Maria's questioning look.

"She's not good. She has a lacerated liver and a collapsed lung. That's just the worst of it."

"Is she going to be okay?"

"I don't know." He shook his head, staring up into the ceiling. "She looks so...broken." He paused and rubbed his fingers over his tired eyes. "They're keeping her sedated for now to give her body a chance to heal. Cassidy's staying with her."

There was a protracted silence, both of them watching Zara sleep. Finally, Maria's soft voice fractured the quiet.

"What happened?"

He let out a long, slow breath. His gaze shifted to the window where he stared into the darkness outside.

"The cabin was on fire when we got there. We couldn't get inside. I thought she was in there. I thought…"

For a minute, he was lost in the memory of it. In the cabin and the fire. In the weight of Olivia's loss. How he'd felt smothered by it. And he'd thought, with some measure of clarity, what it would be like to put that weight on every day. A suit made of devastation and sadness, sewn with threads of regret and guilt.

"But she's alive," Maria reminded him, pulling him from the suffocating memory. "You found her."

Nick considered this for a moment and then slowly shook his head, his eyes focused on the floor.

"We didn't find her," he admitted. "Lewis - he was taking off with her I guess. I don't know. Somehow he knew we were coming. He crashed the car. Some kid found Olivia handcuffed in the backseat and called it in."

Nick chewed the inside of his cheek and shook his head. He released a shaky breath, his eyes staring blankly into the blue blanket draped over Zara.

"When we got there, Lewis had already shot one of the cops on scene and he was holding the gun to Olivia's head. I knew he wasn't going to let her go. I knew it. But I couldn't take the shot." He stared down into his open hands as if they'd betrayed him. "If I'd hit her, or I missed and he shot her - even though I knew he was never going to let her go, I couldn't live with it." He lifted his eyes to Maria's. "He was taunting us - hurting her - and I just stood there."

The anguish that saturated his voice, twisted his face. He shut his eyes against the sound of Lewis' taunts ringing in his ears.

_"There's not an inch of her skin I haven't touched."_

He put his palms to his forehead in a futile attempt to shield himself from the memory.

"Nick."

His hands fell back to his sides and his eyes flew open into Maria's troubled gaze.

"I know you. You're a good cop, a good partner. You did everything you could."

He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "It wasn't enough. None of it. I failed her."

Nick stared into Zara's serene, sleeping face, searching for relief from the thoughts that plagued his mind. But the sight of his daughter safe and sound in her hospital bed only served to contrast with the image he held of Olivia in hers. There would be no relief. He reached out and put his hand over Zara's.

"How's she been?" He asked.

"Better, I think. She's talking a little more. She kept asking about Olivia," Maria recounted. "She finally fell asleep an hour ago."

Maria reached out and brushed a piece of hair away from Zara's face.

"What are we going to tell her?"

"The truth. That Lewis is gone. That he can't hurt her or Olivia anymore."

"She'll want to see her."

Nick sighed. "I know, but she can't. Not right now."

"It'll just be good for her to know Olivia is safe."

"Yeah," Nick murmured distractedly. "I uh - I should call my sister. See how my mom is doing."

"Okay."

Nick stood up, leaned over, and kissed Zara's forehead. He smoothed over her hair affectionately, the corners of his mouth turning up despite the heaviness that weighed on him. He noticed a piece of paper, folded, sitting on the table next to her. He picked it up and read the large, messy letters scrawled on the paper in blue ink.

"She made it for Olivia."

He stared at the paper a second longer, noting a picture that he couldn't quite decipher at the bottom of the page. He set the paper back on the table and went to leave the room, when Maria's voice stopped him.

"I don't know what I'll say to her."

Nick spun to face Maria, his brows furrowed in confusion. He was about to repeat his previous answer, that they'd tell Zara the truth, but something about the look on Maria's face told him she wasn't talking about Zara.

"What do you say to the woman who went through horrible, unimaginable things to save your child's life?" Nick heard a quiver in Maria's voice as she broke off. Her eyes trailed up from Zara to meet his, a film of moisture glistening over her green eyes. Her shoulders raised ever so slightly. "Thank you doesn't seem like enough."

"It's not," Nick said softly, turning away from her, his hand on the doorknob. "We could say it for the rest of our lives and it would never be enough."

* * *

><p>"...Sergeant Benson is one of the NYPD's finest officers and, I'm sure no one here would argue when I say, a hero."<p>

The rapid click of camera shutters resonated through the press room of St. Mary's hospital. It was an unusually chaotic Sunday afternoon there. Streams of reporters, cameramen and journalists had taken over the parking lot early that morning, then proceeded to invade the hospital at noon in preparation for the press conference. Every seat in the room was occupied. Some were left to stand along the wall. They were joined by a few members of local law enforcement, hospital administrators, and the occasional doctor or nurse who'd been drawn in by the spectacle of it all. Video cameras lined the back wall, aimed at the front of the room, where a panel of individuals sat in chairs situated on a raised platform. NYPD Deputy Commissioner of Public Information, Hank Abraham, stood at the podium addressing the media.

"She risked her own life to save the life of a child. This comes as no surprise to those of us who've had the privilege of working with her over the years."

Nick rolled his eyes and shook his head as he listened to the Deputy Commissioner act like he knew a thing about Olivia. Amanda glanced in his direction and raised her eyebrows in a similar sort of exasperation. The man was insufferable, even if what he said was right.

"I'd like to turn it over Captain Donald Cragen for a brief summary of the extensive search his unit conducted that ultimately ended in Sergeant Benson's rescue. Captain."

Captain Cragen stepped forward hesitantly. He looked exhausted. He'd arrived at the hospital early that morning in his dark suit and red tie, a shade that was matched too closely by his bloodshot eyes. His face was lined with worry, and seeing Olivia for himself had only deepened the lines. For the first time, he appeared to stand before them, not as their unshakable Captain, but as a troubled, weary man. Even now, as he stood at the podium, the air of disquiet surrounded him, invaded his voice, weighed on his shoulders.

The press conference went on for half an hour. The County Sheriff spoke somberly about Deputy Sinclair, calling her an extremely bright and capable officer. The State Police public information officer detailed the investigation at the various crime scenes and confirmed the death of Jonathan Allen, the man Lewis had shot and stuffed in the trunk of the abandoned SUV, parked at a storage unit facility. And a doctor from the ER provided a short summary of Olivia's and Zara's injuries. After everyone had finished, the questions began. They were rapid fire. A swell of eager voices vying for attention, hungry for every detail of the ordeal, and nearly as greedy for every scrap of information on Olivia.

"I'm outta here," Fin grumbled, after one particularly egregious question from a blonde reporter in the front row. Amanda glared in the direction of the reporter, who was none the wiser, and followed after him. Nick pushed away from the wall, prepared to do the same, when he noticed a man and woman standing to his right, staring at him. He recognized them as the state police detectives that'd visited the hospital the previous evening, hoping to procure a statement from Olivia, only to find out she wouldn't regain consciousness that night. He nodded in their direction, a brief acknowledgment, then he followed Fin and Amanda out the door. He caught up with them at the elevators. Fin was muttering under his breath, smacking his fingers against the up arrow impatiently while Amanda inspected something on her shirt.

"Damn."

"What?" Nick asked.

"I spilled coffee on myself this morning," Amanda told him, grabbing the soft pink fabric around the stain and showing it to him.

"You're in a hospital. Nobody cares. They've got other things to worry about."

"We have to give our statements tomorrow. I only have the clothes I wore yesterday."

"We'll find a place to stay tonight. You can do laundry," Fin told her.

"Or you could buy new ones," Nick suggested with a shrug.

"Detective Amaro."

Nick heard the voice call out from behind him and spun to see who'd beckoned to him. The state police detectives were striding toward them purposefully.

"What do they want?" Fin asked.

"I have no idea," Nick answered.

"Detective Granger," the man flashed his badge, then motioned to his female partner. "Detective Bishop."

"Yeah, I remember. What can I do for you?"

"Do you have a minute? We'd like to speak with you."

An elevator to his left opened. Nick turned to Amanda and Fin.

"Go ahead."

"Nah. We'll stay," Fin said.

Detective Granger led them away from the elevators, toward a vacant area of the lobby.

"What's this about?" Nick asked.

"Simon Casey," Detective Bishop answered.

"What about him?"

"He's going to be arraigned this afternoon on the charge of obstructing governmental administration in the first degree."

"Wait a minute. That's class E. That's nothing," Amanda argued. "He probably won't even get jail time."

"Simon helped Lewis keep Olivia and Zara at that cabin. Why the hell isn't he being charged as an accessory?" Fin demanded.

"ADA Carver doesn't think we have enough to get him on criminal liability," Granger explained. "At least not right now. Simon's hired two of the best lawyers in the state to defend him. They're tough. She's not going to bring charges she doesn't think she can back up and everything we have is circumstantial at best. We have a few weeks, maybe a month, to build a case for criminal liability charges before pretrial."

"And unfortunately, until Sergeant Benson is conscious and able to give a statement, we don't have much to go on. Simon claims he didn't know Lewis was holding them at the cabin and that he was never there. We can't prove he did or was."

"Does he have an alibi for Friday night?" Amanda asked them. "Zara saw someone at the cabin before she escaped."

"He says he was home. Both of his kids were out with friends," Granger answered.

"That's convenient."

"Yeah, well, it's not surprising. And any evidence tying him to the cabin is useless because it's his - you'd expect to find his DNA there."

"There won't be any evidence. The fire took care of that," Fin muttered.

"Actually, it didn't."

"How? The place was destroyed. We saw it ourselves."

"It was," Granger confirmed. "At least, everything above ground. But the basement - it's all concrete. There was nothing there to burn except an old mattress. And it was shoved into the corner of the room, underneath one of the few parts of the floor that didn't fall."

Detective Bishop scanned all three of their faces, then continued. "Our crime scene unit found blood and semen on the mattress. There was blood on the floor as well. The samples are at the lab being analyzed as we speak. We should have the results in a few days."

It was as if a bomb had exploded, knocking them back, stealing the air from their lungs. Heat coursed through Nick's body. Tension seized his muscles. He felt a sudden flare of anger at the detectives before him, irrational as he knew it was. His eyes narrowed and he glared in their direction.

"So why the hell are you here?" Nick asked cooly.

Granger and Bishop were taken off guard by his sudden change in demeanor. After a tentative glance at her partner, Bishop answered. "We'd like to ask your daughter some questions."

"No," Nick said immediately. "She can't identify Simon. It was dark. She didn't get a good look at him."

"Even if that's true, her statement is still critical to the investigation. I don't need to tell you that. We need to know everything she knows: what she saw, what she heard, what happened to her."

"Nothing happened to her. Lewis didn't do anything to Zara," Nick insisted, his voice raising.

"He kidnapped her. Held her hostage. I'd say that's enough," Granger argued. "And there's a lot we don't know."

"I know, okay? She says he didn't hurt her."

"Has Zara ever mentioned being kept anywhere except the basement?"

"No. Why?"

"Last night one of our teams found a small shed out in the woods, northeast of the cabin. Inside there were empty bottles of alcohol, food wrappers, cigarette butts..."

"What does that have to do with Zara?"

Detective Bishop focused on Nick. "It looked like someone had been locked inside. There were towels spread out on the floor, a bucket with urine in it. They found a padlock on the ground outside. Our crime scene unit recovered prints off an empty bottle of vodka. We'll go through the process of ruling Lewis and Sergeant Benson out, but it's just a formality at this point. They're small. A child's."

Nick stared unfocused at the wall behind them. He could vaguely hear Fin asking a question, but it was indiscernible noise, because his own thoughts were pounding in his head like a drum.

"I want to be clear, Detective, that we didn't find any evidence of…violence. But you can understand why we need to talk to her. If she was alone with Lewis…" Bishop voice trailed off, appearing to decide against continuing that particular line of persuasion. "He could've said something to her. Something that would implicate Simon."

"She's traumatized. She can barely talk to me about what happened. I can't put her through that."

"We're not saying it has to be today," Bishop allowed. "We realize she might need a little time."

"You make the rules. You wanna be there, you wanna bring in a professional. Whatever. We'll do it. We all want the same thing."

Granger held out a card to him and Nick took it.

"Simon is going to pay for what he's done. That's a promise coming from a fellow officer. Whatever it takes."

* * *

><p>A yellow glow illuminated the cross on the wall at the front of the room. The only other source of light was the slight glare pouring in through the stained glass window. The room was small. There were two lines of chairs extending from the front to the back, and across a narrow aisle, two more lines of chairs side by side, all of them empty.<p>

Amanda sat in the second row, her eyes forward. To the casual observer she might've appeared to be a devout worshiper seeking solace or guidance. In truth, she had been seeking something when she'd wandered into the dimly lit hospital chapel, she just wasn't sure what it was. She suspected it was solitude more than anything else. It was hard to come by seeing as most of her time was spent in the waiting room with the constant drone of the tv (mostly the news), the curious stares of the people that, after a day of seeing the same video clip over and over again, recognized them from said news, and Fin, Brian and Nick - her constant companions. To her bewilderment, she'd found herself longing for home and Frannie frequently. She'd have given anything to be curled up on her couch with Frannie beside her. Not that she didn't want to be there for Olivia and Zara, she did, but the image of home and Frannie provided much needed warmth when the cold reality became a little too much. But, it left her feeling more than a little guilty to be thinking of her own comfort when Zara and Olivia's lives had been shredded to pieces that might never fit back together again.

She stifled a yawn with a hand to her mouth. Her eyes were heavy from days of little sleep, demanding relief with an irresistible pull on her lids. She leaned forward and put her head in her hands, grudgingly acquiescing to that demand. She heard his voice first. She'd expected it. Twenty four hours of experience told her it was coming. The sound of his taunts, his laughter filled every space in her mind, echoing to life. And then she was back amongst the trees, twisted metal, blood on the ground. She stood across from Lewis while he held Olivia in front of him like a proud artist presenting his masterpiece to an audience for the first time. Bruised, battered...the woman before her appeared utterly desolate. And Lewis...he smiled. It chilled her. The same way it'd chilled her in the park, thought it was a time she preferred not to think about. She had known from the beginning what he was. At least she'd thought she had. But the truth was, she'd never truly understood until that moment, when he stood in front of her in all his cruelty, unmasked.

A clicking noise startled her back to the darkened hospital chapel. A narrow column of light hit the floor beside her. She heard faint footsteps, then the light disappeared and a quiet thud signaled the close of the door. She straightened up, but didn't turn around, listening to the footsteps as they approached, irrationally annoyed by the intrusion into her solitude.

"Amanda?"

She recognized the voice and turned to greet the Captain, who stood a couple of rows back in the middle of the aisle.

"Hey, Captain."

He took a few steps closer so he was standing in line with her chair. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just needed to get away for a little bit. Wasn't gonna risk goin' outside where all the cameras are. This was the next best thing."

"Would you mind some company or would you rather I left you alone?"

Amanda rested her head against the back of the chair and looked to the side. "No. Stay."

Cragen took a seat across the aisle from her. They sat in silence for a while, immersed in the peace and quiet the room afforded them.

"The world just stops in here, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, it does," she agreed. "You can almost shut it all out. Forget everything outside of this room."

"Almost," Cragen repeated wistfully.

They fell into silence again. The sound of laughter from a passerby in the hallway seeped through the door, the walls, into the room. She thought how odd it was. The idea of someone laughing. A concept that felt almost as foreign to her as a day when she didn't feel like the world was crashing down around her.

"It's bad." She was surprised by the sound of her own voice. She hadn't meant to say it. It seemed unnecessary. He knew it was bad. They all knew it was bad. It was like saying the sky was blue. But sometimes the sky was so blue, you couldn't help but say it.

"I know."

"I felt so damn lousy that day, watching her walk out of the squad room. There have been a lot of bad days on this job, but I think that was probably the worst, knowing we'd hadn't been able to help her at all. I didn't think I could feel worse than I did then, but...here we are."

"Amanda -"

"You know, they keep saying she was rescued. On the news, at the press conference. I couldn't quite figure out why it bothered me so much until just now."

She could feel the Captain turn toward her, giving her his full attention, but she couldn't look at him. Not while she was expelling this thought that'd taunted her since the previous night.

"I know they say we rescued her because we shot Lewis before he could shoot her, but they're wrong. They're wrong because the Olivia I saw - I didn't recognize her." Amanda turned her head, meeting the Captain's gaze for the first time. "She wasn't there, Captain. She was there, but she wasn't." She looked away, letting her eyes fall to the floor. "That wasn't a rescue. I think we were too late."

The air was heavy with tension. She could feel it all around her, suffocating her. The silence in the room was loud, deafening. She wanted, needed, him to say something.

"I don't believe that," the Captain said after a lengthy pause. "I know Olivia. I've known her a long time. And the one thing I know with certainty, above all else, is that she never gives up. Even when she should. So I have to believe she's not about to start now. When Lewis had the gun to her head, she was still fighting. That's Liv. She's still there."

"I hope you're right," Amanda murmured, chancing a glance in his direction.

Despite the confidence in his words, she saw the shadow of uncertainty in his face. "Me too."

She busied herself with checking her phone in the awkward silence that followed, undeniably a little lighter having put a voice to the thing that troubled her. At least one of them. She decided she'd hidden long enough and stood.

"I should probably go find Fin. See if he needs some help. He was trying to find us a place to stay."

"You left him in charge of that?" Cragen asked, feigning surprise.

Amanda shrugged and offered a small smirk. "I trust my partner."

"As you should. I'll see you at headquarters tomorrow. And Amanda…"

"Yeah Captain?"

"Get some sleep. Whether you believe it or not, you did good work. You all did. Now it's time to take care of yourself."

"Sleep," she repeated softly. "Do you sleep, Captain?"

The corners of the Captain's mouth turned up into a sad smile. He raised his shoulders. "Old men don't need sleep."

Amanda returned his smile with a weary one of her own. She pursed her lips and offered a knowing nod.

"Me too. Goodnight Captain."

* * *

><p>It was Monday afternoon when he finally ventured off the third floor for the first time since Olivia had been admitted to the ICU. There'd been plenty of opportunities for him to leave. Nick, Fin, and the Captain had all been spending time in Olivia's room - Amanda preferred to make her show of support from the waiting room. There'd also been regular mandatory breaks in visitation. But Brian had stayed nearby, only venturing as far as the bathroom and the vending machines down the hall, where he'd been getting what passed as meals for a day and a half.<p>

It was one of Olivia's nurses who'd finally ordered him off the third floor on one of the breaks. She'd even followed him out to the waiting room. He couldn't really say why he listened other than he was too tired to argue, and technically, she had the power to kick him out of the room anytime she pleased. He hadn't really had a destination in mind when he stepped off the elevator, he'd just ambled around aimlessly until he ended up in front of the cafeteria. The resounding growl of his stomach let him know he was in the right place. It was after the lunch rush so it was relatively empty. He walked around the small, circular area in a daze, past pizza, hamburgers and salad. He'd made the trip around the circle two times when he finally decided to counter his indecisiveness by checking out a small refrigerated section. He peered into the refrigerator and pulled the door open to take a closer look. He picked up a round container and read the label. Hummus. Next to him, a hand reached inside and pulled out a similar container.

"I love this stuff."

Brian glanced at the man to his right, then down at the container in his hand.

"Never had it."

"It's good. You should try it."

"Chickpeas?" Brian repeated after reading it off the label. His face twisted in distaste and he put the container back in the refrigerator.

"I don't know if I'm feeling that adventurous."

"If you're looking for something besides burgers and fries, there's always the salad bar."

"I've been eating out of a vending machine on the third floor for the last day, so anything that doesn't come out of a bag will work."

"Third floor. That's the ICU. I was up there with my mom about a year ago. It's rough."

"Yeah. Yeah, it is."

"Who is it?"

Brian stared at him blankly.

"I just meant who are you here to see?" He put up his hands. "You know what, I'm sorry, it's none of my business."

"Oh. No, it's fine. My girlfriend. She was…" Brian considered what he should say and decided on the path of least resistance. Or in this case, the path of fewer questions, "in a car accident."

"I'm sorry."

"Thanks."

Brian moved toward a counter where an older man was ladling soup into a small styrofoam container.

"Your girlfriend - is she going to be okay?"

"I think so." Brian murmured distractedly, catching a glimpse of a familiar profile sitting across from a woman at a nearby table.

The man behind him was talking again, but Brian was watching the couple stand and walk away from the table.

"Sorry, I see someone I know," Brian mumbled, without looking away.

He strode past the registers, through the scattered seating, his gaze never wavering from them. He was blind to everything and everyone else, and they were completely oblivious to him as they stepped out into the hallway. When he caught up to them, he reached out and put his hand on the man's shoulder, spinning him around.

"Detective -"

"You son of a bitch," Brian seethed, swinging his right fist, connecting with Simon Casey's face. Simon was sent stumbling a few steps back, holding his cheek.

"Hey!" The woman with Simon yelled.

Simon held his hand up to Brian. "I didn't know -"

Brian swung again. Simon dropped to one knee, holding his nose which was bleeding profusely. Brian took a step forward, but immediately felt hands on his shoulders pulling him back.

"Alright, that's enough."

Brian glanced back in surprise and confusion, registering the familiar gruff voice of Lieutenant Tucker.

"Kelly call the police," Simon ordered, with his hand still to his nose. "I want to report an assault."

"Put the phone down, Kelly," Tucker commanded, releasing Brian. "Mr. Casey doesn't want to do that."

"The hell I don't."

"You're a businessman, right? Image is your brand. How's it going to look when the media starts running stories about how you're stalking your victims in the hospital where they're being treated?"

"Stalking my victims?" Simon exclaimed indignantly. "I had no idea -"

"Bullshit!" Brian yelled, trying to push past Tucker. "You knew and you helped Lewis keep her there."

Simon ignored Brian and addressed Tucker in a low voice.

"I have perfectly valid reasons for being here."

"I believe you, Mr. Casey. But do they?"

Simon glanced to his right at Kelly, then down the hall where a group of people had stopped to observe the commotion.

"My feeling is you want this all to go away because, let's face it, that old saying any publicity is good publicity? We both know that's not exactly true. Especially not for someone like you. And if you have him arrested? All of this," Tucker motioned to the people who were watching them. Some blatantly, some surreptitiously, "only gets worse. And that's if you can find a cop in the city that'll arrest him. Because I'm guessing, at this point, they all know what you did. And cops? They don't like people that hurt other cops. But it's your call."

Simon took one final look around, stared at the blood on his hand, then turned on his heels and walked in the opposite direction, Kelly trailing behind him after a brief hesitation.

"Let's go." Tucker led Brian in the other direction. They started down the hallway at a brisk pace, their shoes clicking against the floor. "Using the man as a punching bag in the middle of the hospital isn't the smartest thing you've ever done."

"No. But it felt good," Brian said, opening and closing his hand.

"And a jail cell? How would that have felt?"

Brian was silent in response to this.

"The judge must've granted him bail," Brian said angrily. "That bastard should be in jail, not walking around here."

"He was always going to get bail for that. Have their ADA get an order of protection against him. That should keep him out of here at least."

"Yeah," Brian agreed. "Yeah, I'll talk to her. I thought you were at headquarters taking statements."

"We wrapped that up. Had to swing by here to get some information from the nurse who did the blood work up."

"Right." Brian stopped and faced Tucker. "Amaro and Rollins - everything's good on that right? When Cragen said you were coming here to take their statements for the review I thought - well, I just wondered if the brass is pushing an angle."

"There's no angle. We're doing them a favor. The alternative was to make them come back to the city. I figure they'd rather be here."

"Yeah. Of course."

"How is she?"

"She's...better," Brian answered, with little conviction. "Her vitals are good. I think they're going to wake her up soon."

"That's good news."

Brian nodded in agreement.

"I assume you'll be taking some time off."

"Yeah. Look, I- I know it's crappy timing. But I need to be here."

"Cassidy," Tucker interjected. "I wasn't asking for justification. We'll manage."

"Okay."

"Benson... She's one of the good ones."

"She's the best. Always has been."

"Not just a good cop. She's that, no doubt about it." Tucker paused, seeming to struggle in finding the words he wanted to say. "No one deserves what she's been through. Least of all her. I'm - you know, I'm pulling for her."

Brian slowly lifted his gaze from the ground, fixing it on Tucker, surprised by the genuine quality in his voice.

"Surprise Cassidy, I am human."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"I should go. Sergeant Draper should have what we need and we've gotta get back to the city."

"Yeah." Brian started to leave, but stopped. "Hey, thanks. for...you know."

"Just try to keep your fists out of his face from now on. Not that he doesn't deserve it, but you have places you need to be and jail isn't one of them."

Tucker inclined his head in Brian's direction, turned on his heels and started back down the hallway.

"Copy that, Lieutenant."

* * *

><p>On Monday night, Olivia's nurse brought the news they'd been waiting for - Olivia was no longer being sedated. Brian's relief at the news was tempered with the swift realization that he was terrified. Mostly for her, though selfishly for himself as well. What was he supposed to say? Do? How was he supposed to help her? In the aftermath of Lewis' first attack, he'd fumbled blindly through her recovery. Navigating the darkness alongside her as she tried to find her way back to the light. It'd been an uphill climb out of that darkness. There'd been slips, foundations had given way. The distance that she had traveled was immense. But now? Now she was back at the bottom, and he was determined to climb alongside her again, but he couldn't deny that the way up looked darker and steeper than it ever had before.<p>

Olivia hovered on the precipice of consciousness that night - trembling, flinching, emitting small, pained noises that twisted his insides. More than once he'd gotten out of the chair at her bedside and put his hand to her forehead in, what he hoped was, a soothing gesture. He whispered to her, told her she was safe. And it seemed her unconscious mind believed him, because her movements stilled, and the tension in her face disappeared. At least for a little while.

He watched the first rays of light penetrate the night sky through the window. Headlights were visible as people traveled the streets in their cars below. Lights in surrounding buildings switched on room by room. The city was beginning to awaken. And so was Olivia. Her movements became more frequent, her cries more frantic, until suddenly her whole body jerked. He leaned forward in his chair and covered her hand with his. She flinched beneath his touch, yanking her hand away. He pulled his hand back and studied her face. He waited, barely drawing breath, watching the furrow of her brows, the creases around her eyes as she struggled to awaken. Her eyes slowly opened, fluttering under the weight of her sedative-induced fog.

"Hey."

She focused on him from beneath heavy lids. He saw recognition in her eyes, but there was also an unmistakable glaze of uncertainty that spread as she peered past him, at her surroundings.

"You're in the hospital."

"Wh -" Her voice broke off. She reached for her throat and winced in pain at the movement of her arm.

"Let me get you some water."

Brian grabbed a cup off the table next to Olivia and took it to the sink. He quickly filled it with a small bit of water and returned to her side to find her head tilted down, inspecting the place where the tube emerged out of her chest beneath the thin hospital gown. Her fingers brushed lightly against the area around it.

"You have some broken ribs. One of them punctured your lung. The doctors had to put in a chest tube to help you breathe."

She stared at it a little longer, offering no reaction to this revelation.

"Here." Brian held the cup out to her and she took it from him. She hesitated at first, but finally put it to her lips and drank. When she was finished she set the cup down on her bedside table, her gaze lingering on the bandage that circled her outstretched arm. She pulled her arm back and tucked it beneath the blanket, putting the bandaged part of her arm out of sight. Her head lifted and she began surveying the room again, eyes landing on a small table and the folded piece of paper that was perched atop it.

"Zara?" She croaked.

"She's okay. Broken arm, but she'll be alright. She was released from the hospital yesterday."

Olivia closed her eyes and nodded, her hand coming to her side again, her brows drawn together in discomfort.

"You're in pain. Let me call the nurse." He reached for the call button.

Olivia's eyes flew open. "No. Please." She cringed at the sound of her own voice. She took, what appeared to be, an agonized breath. "It's fine."

It wasn't fine. She wasn't fine. But he would've given her anything in that moment.

"Okay," he relented, pulling his hand back. He waited a beat. "Liv, I -"

She seemed to sense what was coming and she couldn't, or wouldn't, hear it. "How long?"

He knew what she was asking immediately. "Five days."

Her mouth opened but no sound came out. She turned her head away from him and stared blankly out the window.

"We found you Saturday night, but you were in bad shape because of your lung and...everything. You've been sedated since then."

"I thought… It felt like…" Her voice trailed off. She wiped at her eyes preemptively and stared at the bit of moisture that clung to her fingers when she pulled them away, transfixed by it.

The door to the room opened and a nurse entered the room wearing light blue scrubs, sporting a ponytail. She didn't seem surprised to find Olivia awake, nor did she seem fazed by the heavy mood of the room. Tension was evident in Olivia's body as she watched her move across the room.

"Good morning Olivia, my name is Emily. It's good to see you awake."

Emily checked the readings on the monitor and the fluid in the IV bags, then turned to Olivia.

"How are you feeling? Are you experiencing any pain?"

Olivia glanced at Brian, who kept his face impassive, but couldn't keep the plea out of his eyes.

"Yes."

"How would you rate the pain on a scale of one to ten?"

Olivia waited a beat. "Eight."

"Okay. I'll speak with Doctor Marko about adjusting your pain meds. Is there anything you need? Some water? Ice? Anything?"

Olivia shook her head, grimacing.

"Do you have any questions?"

"When can I go home?"

Emily was frozen by the question, her mouth hung open. She glanced at Brian, who appeared less stunned by it, but similarly speechless.

"I...I don't really know. I think that's a question for Dr. Marko," Emily told her. "Why don't I go speak with her and I'll be back to check on you soon."

Emily made a hasty exit from the room while Brian resumed his position in the chair at Olivia's bedside, silently watching her stare blankly at the wall with the intensity of a man who knew what it was like to lose everything. He was mere inches from her, but she was so far away. All he wanted to do was reach her.

"Nick and Fin and Amanda are here. Cragen was here yesterday, but he had to go back to the city. I wasn't sure if I should call your brother or -"

Olivia stiffened.

"Liv? What's wrong?"

"Simon," she whispered. She shifted her gaze to meet his. "There was someone...a man -"

"We know about him," Brian assured her. "His name is Simon Casey. The police arrested him Saturday night. You don't have to worry about him."

He wasn't about to tell her Simon was out on bail and had been roaming the halls of the hospital only hours earlier. She didn't need that. And he couldn't stand the thought of putting anymore pain or fear in her eyes.

"He was there. That day," she said in a monotonous tone, staring out the window. "He set it on fire. I was inside. Tied to a chair.

"You were - Simon set the fire?" Brian's head was spinning. If Olivia registered his question, she didn't show any sign of it. Her eyes were fixed on the window and her mind, somewhere else altogether.

"He didn't care, he just wanted me gone." Her voice went flat and the sound of it left Brian with an undeniable sense of unease. "I guess he didn't see."

"See what?"

"I already was."


End file.
